Galactic Games
by PsychoticSax
Summary: Every civilization must go through some sort of crisis, and for this galaxy, it's the Hunger Games. Twelve different species pitted agianst each other. New difficulties every step of the way. Who will come out victorious? Welcome to the Galactic Games.
1. That's Just Life

**QUEENOFTHEBUTTERFLIES**  
><span>GALACTIC GAMES<span>  
><em>THAT'S JUST LIFE<em>

* * *

><p>I wake up to someone jumping on me. Out of reflex, I pull my dagger from my side pocket and pin them back down to my bed. They're struggling beneath me, but I've got my hand to their throat, daring them to try to speak. However, at that precise moment, dawn breaks somewhere in the horizon, revealing the petrified face of my little brother, Brick. I immediately let go of his neck and jam my dagger back down in its pouch so that Mom won't come in and see it. She doesn't like weapons in the house.<p>

"Avi! You _promised_ you wouldn't _do_ that anymore!" he whines, bringing his hand up to inspect for damage. "And Mom says you're not supposed to have the daggers in the house!"

"What Mom doesn't know won't kill her," I snap, pulling back the worn wool covers from my body.

"But it'll kill me!" He scampers off of my bed and presses his back to the wall, looking at me with mock fear in his eyes.

"What are you doing up so early anyways?" I ask, walking over to my 'dresser'. Really, it's just a box filled with all of my clothing – three day outfits, pajamas, undergarments, and one formal dress, which I wear to the reaping every year. Nothing special, really. Putting my back to Brick, I start to unbutton my pajama top.

"Don't you remember, Avi?" I can hear him bouncing back onto my bed, but I say nothing. His bed is in a much better condition than mine, and yet he prefers mine anyways.

"No," I say simply, peeling the shirt off. I fold it up neatly and place it next to the box so that I can go digging around for a bra, which I usually keep at the bottom. In all honesty, I really don't need one. I'm as flat as a board, but Mom keeps insisting that they'll grow in some day. Then again, I don't think Mom's ever been right about anything.

"You _really_ don't remember?" he presses, and I can just see his big brown eyes practically popping out of his head, even though I'm not looking in his direction. Those eyes are burned into my head, like the way a scar is burned into flesh; always there and impossible to forget.

"No," I say again, throwing on the bra and one of my day shirts, a brown tank top that's practically been worn to threads. It's my favorite shirt, mostly because it's the easiest to hunt in. _Hunting_.

"Wha… What?" I can hear the tears filling his voice, but I've already identified the mistake I've made. Today's his _birthday_. I promised him that I'd take him hunting for the first time today, and I completely forgot about it… I take a deep breath and throw a smile on my face before I turn back to Brick.

"No, silly!" I tell him, leaping onto the bed next to him. I pin him down easily, but he's giggling, so all is good. "Of _course_ I didn't forget your birthday!" We wrestle with Brick for a few minutes longer, and I let him pin me down, which is a rarity. Now that he's laughing and having fun again, I get up and tell him to go get his hunting clothes on. He responds eagerly and runs out of my room and towards his own. I don't think anything excites that boy more than the thought of hunting.

After he's gone, I change into my hunting pants – brown leggings that match my shirt – and grab a backpack. The belt around my waist holds my daggers and shuriken, and since I can't let my mother see them, I hide it all in the bag, under the plastic wrappings that we use to bring home meat that Mom cooks for us. I know that she isn't awake yet, but hiding them still makes me feel better. She's caught me more than enough times.

Before I go, I take a quick look at myself in the mirror. It's been a while since I've had my haircut – it's rather expensive, and I don't know anyone who has any skills with a sharp weapon, other than me. And I really don't trust myself with cutting my hair. It's dark brown, like Brick's eyes, and I suppose it's gotten a good enough washing lately seeing as it's been raining a lot. I grab a hair ribbon – an expensive, lavish one; it was a gift my father obtained for me from the factory where he works. He doesn't get to come home too often, maybe every few weeks, but he always manages to bring presents. This one was from my last birthday, when I turned thirteen. I've worn it every day since I got it.

I inspect my ears, making sure that they're even. Since I'm an Elf, they're nice and pointed, but to me, my right one has always appeared just a _little_ bit pointier than my left one, and for some reason, that bugs me. But today they both appear to be even for the first time in forever.

When compared to humans, Elven qualities aren't very noticeable. Our noses are a bit pointier and turned up a little higher. Most of us have heart-shaped faces and cherry-red lips. We've all got rather pale skin, but yet we don't get burned easily like humans do. We have some sort of resistance to elements. For example, we can breathe under water for short periods of time (the longest record is held by Keton Lazar, who held his breath for an entire hour). I'm not sure where it comes from or why we have it, but it typically pays off somehow. To me, one of the most peculiar differences is that Elven women are shorter than average human women whereas Elven men are usually taller than human men. I mean, Brick – who's only seven – is only an inch shorter than I am, and he's probably still going to grow another foot whereas I probably won't manage to grow another centimeter.

By the time my hair is tied back and I'm done inspecting myself, Brick is waiting outside my door with his spear at hand. His spear was his gift for his sixth birthday. It took me a few weeks to make, but he loved it. He's practiced with it every single day, preparing for his seventh birthday so that I would teach him how to hunt.

_Technically_, those of us on Planet 3 aren't supposed to be hunting, but _everyone_ does it. The Capitol – which is actually on Panem (which, at one point, was Earth) – has set up twelve planets which represent the twelve districts that Panem had when it was small. We're labeled from planet one through twelve and each planet has a different race and specializes in a different area. For example, Planet 3 specializes in electronics and firearms because, as a race of Elves – conquered by the people of Panem long, long ago –, we have very nimble fingers, allowing us to easily mess with gadgets and craft weapons. It only took me weeks to make the spear because I'd never made one before. Anyways, we still have all of our basic needs (my father works at a textile factory, which is Planet 8's specialty) on this planet, but not many of them. The majority of other needs come from the other planets, and the Capitol takes a majority of the pay. So instead of going to the market to buy food, most of us just hunt for it. Planet 3's Capitol (called Center) typically turns a blind eye to it – as long as they receive compensation. The people who run Panem's Capitol love the eccentricity of the pelts of Planet 3's animals. The Square pays us for the pelts, then the Center pays them for the pelts, and finally the Capitol pays _them_. So it's all good.

It might seem difficult to run twelve planets, but there's basically a hierarchy to it. The Capitol is at the top, then the Centers, and then the Squares. There's a Square in every city, and they enforce the laws of the Center, which enforces the law of the Capitol. There are who knows how many Squares spread all over Planet 3, and they're all of the same value to the Capitol: nothing.

I shake my head to clear the thoughts from my mind, and then I turn to Brick and smile. "Are you ready?" I ask, slinging the book bag over my shoulder. He nods excitedly and scurries out of the room, not even bothering to say anything. I head out of my room, and I've almost reached the front door when I hear my mother's cool voice.

"Avoria," she says, and from the tone, I can tell that she isn't pleased. All the happiness that Brick gave me suddenly deflates as I turn to see her. She's leaning against the door to her room with her arms crossed over her chest. She looks just about as happy as I feel – little to less.

"Yes, Mother?" I say through clenched teeth, trying to keep my tone straight. It's not that I _hate_ my mother – I just have a very strong disliking of her. It's always been obvious that she favors Brick, with his bubbly happiness and his bright sunshiny smile. She's never really been a big fan of me – even when I was the only child.

"You'll be sure to take care of my baby, won't you?" she purrs, but her face portrays no emotions that resemble caring. It's icy cold – just like her heart.

"For the last time, Mother, he's _not_ going to get hurt. I'll keep an eye on him."

"See to it that you do," she finishes, and then she stalks back into her room. I can feel my anger rising within me, boiling under my skin. I'm so tempted to go back there and tell her off, but I hear Brick calling me, begging me to hurry up so that he can getting started on his training.

"Coming, Brick!" I call. Then I leave the house and slam the door behind me as I do.

_I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I_

**Author's Note:**

**I don't know if this idea is original or not, but I like it. I'm going to try to keep up with it, so you're welcome to support me by reviewing, or sending me a P.M. or both. Whatever you like! If this story goes well, I'll probably do a SYOT (I don't even know what that stands for! Can someone **_**please **_**enlighten me? Nevermind - I got it!) with different species (I'll give you all twelve of them, a description, and a template!) and everything. **_**I**_** think it's a cool idea. Lemme know what you guys think! **

**Also, I don't have a beta reader (yet), so feel free to point out any mistakes or inconsistencies. Or you could just offer me your services… (:**

**Oh, and a thank you to loudgirlx, who inspired me to read The Hunger Games, and another one to Max In Training, who's tribute I was working on when the idea came to me! **

**-QOTB-**


	2. Death Takes a Stroll Through the Park

**QUEENOFTHEBUTTERFLIES**  
><span>GALACTIC GAMES<span>  
><em>DEATH TAKES A STROLL THROUGH THE PARK<em>

* * *

><p>Getting up from the bed is a very painful process. There are too many bruises in too many places. Training with Brick had been harder than I had originally thought. At first, it had been so easy… all we did was climb a tree and wait. He complained a lot about how boring it was and how he just wanted to shoot something, but I insisted that he be quiet or I wouldn't let him make his first kill until his <em>next<em> birthday. That shut him up. Well, for a little bit. Then he started complaining that the tree was uncomfortable and about how hungry he was. I had been on the verge of snapping at him again when I heard him scream. I immediately readied my dagger, but it was too late. Brick flailed back, pushing me out of the tree. Falling had been like flying – amazing until about two-third of the way down, when I realized that I had to hit _something_. Hitting the ground was bad. I felt as if my entire backside had been slapped by a giant hand. The breath was completely knocked out of me, and my head was tingling. To make things better, Brick had fallen, too, and landed right on top of me. He doesn't weigh that much, but then again, neither do I.

And then the squirrel that caused the whole mess scampered off.

After that, we decided to forward the training session to an end. Brick let me limp on him the entire way home, and he kept asking me if I was mad at him. I assured him that I wasn't multiple times, but he never believed me. After about the tenth time or so, I finally snapped. "Brick, you can just_ stop_ apologizing, alright! I heard you the _first_ twenty times! You don't have to keep saying it! Just _shut up!_" Immediately after I said it, I bit my lip and looked up, knowing that I'd done yet another thing wrong.

"I…I didn't mean to, Avi…" he said, choking back a sob. Then he sniffled some and I sighed. Brick is an awfully unfitting name for this child. He cries almost every time I get upset with him, which is quite often. I'm the first to admit that, for an Elf, I'm rather impatient.

I took a deep breath. Brick is the only person I've _ever_ apologized to – and that includes the little boy I used to tease when I was six. I teased him so mercilessly that he convinced his parents to move. It's safe to say that after that, none of the other children ever talked to me again. Good – I didn't _want_ them to, anyways.

"Hey," I said, nudging him a little. My voice sounded more forced than I meant for it to, but I was sure that Brick would get the sincerity. "It's ok. I just got angry. Again."

He nodded and rubbed the snot away from his nose, but he didn't say anything. He usually doesn't after I apologize. Sometimes I feel really sorry for Brick, having me as a sister and all. I'm not exactly the easiest person to get along with… As I said earlier, I don't have any friends. I don't enjoy being nice, either. It just seems like a waste of time – if something bugs you, you do something about it. Don't waste an hour easing yourself into it. You just… _do it_.

When we got home, our Mom didn't even notice how beat up I was. She didn't seem to see the black and blue blotches covering my body, the bloody lip, the limping… What she _did_ notice, however, was the little scratch Brick had on his cheek from it colliding with my lip when he fell. She cued over him and yelled at me.

"Avoria! How could you let him get hurt!" she yelled, falling to her knees at his feet. "Brick, baby, are you alright?" she gushed, examining his cheek. He looked over and me and I rolled my eyes. When he finally looked back at Mom and nodded, and sighed in relief. "You're such a brave boy… let Mommy clean you off!" She picked him up and carried him to the kitchen, our only source of running water. She turned back to me and hissed, "We'll _talk_ about this _later_."

I just went to my room and locked the door. An hour later, she knocked, but I didn't answer. She knocked harder and started making empty threats, but that had no particular effect one me; she makes empty threats all the time. It wasn't until she started talking about taking my reaping dress that I bothered to respond to her. "You don't even _care_ if I get reaped!" I yelled, still lying back on my bed. "You'd be rooting for my death!"

"You know that's not true! Now open this door!" she insisted, banging even harder. But I wasn't about to let it go – I was nowhere _near_ letting it go. With my angry fueling me, I started yelling even louder, and I clenched my hands into fists that were so tight that my nails left imprints in my palms.

"Yes it is! You _know_ it is! You don't care if I get reaped! You don't even care if I _die_! Just admit it! The only reason you even keep me around is so that I can hunt food for your precious Brick!" I'd probably crossed a line, but by then, I was too upset to even care. I was too upset to do anything except scream.

"Don't talk about your brother that way!" she said back, giving the door another good thumping.

"Oh, that's right! Because he's so high and mighty, and _so_ much better than me! Why, I ought to bow when he walks before me and kiss his hand! I should throw rose petals before his feet and caress the ground he walks on! Make his bed and his supper for him! Throw myself out of a _tree_ for him!" After I said it, I expected her to tell me to stop acting so ridiculous, to tell me that I was blowing things out of proportion. In fact, that was what I was _hoping_ for. But that's not what she said.

With anger and desperation filling her voice, she replied, "You _should!_"

I gasped and took a step back, horrified. What the _hell_? What kind of mother _says_ things like that? I just couldn't believe my ears; I heard her voice repeating it over and over, only it came out saying something like '_You should bow down to him! You should fetch him supper! You should kiss the ground on which he walks!'_ My head was spinning with so many instances of her favoring _Brick_, of her complimenting _Brick_, of her loving _Brick_.

I couldn't even remember the last time she smiled at me.

"Why!" I screamed, unable to control my anger. Why was _Brick_ so special? Why did Mother love _him_ more? What did _I_ do _wrong_? "Why _should_ I!"

"Because he's going to _die!_"

The tension between us was so that thick I probably could have sliced it open with my daggers and and drowned it in it's own sick blood. Very quietly and very softly, I opened the door for my mother. She stared at me with tears brimming the edges of her eyes and her mouth closed tight, wrenched in silence. I stood frozen, staring at her, trying to force my mind not to think about what she just said; it was hopeless.

"How?" I asked, shortly and abruptly. "Why?"

"Gaveks," she answers, not bothering to wipe away the tear that escaped down her cheek. "He was born with Gaveks."

I felt like I did when I fell out of that tree – like I was unable to breath; like I was being crushed from all directions. I thought back to Brick falling on top of me; if I hadn't softened to blow for him, would have have _died_ right then and there? Gaveks is such a horrible disease – it's almost similar to osteogenesis imperfecta on Panem (causing _very_ brittle bones), but I think it's worse. Brick's bones are _weak _(although not nearly as weak as those of OI victims); he _should_ have broken something in that fall. But that's not all there is to it. Unlike in OI patients, and very, very slowly, his organs are shifting about. It's so slow that it takes years for a Gaveks victim to show any signs of it, but by then, it was usually too late. One organ would puncture another, or the brain would burst inside of the skull. There's no cause and no cure.

It'd be another miracle if he lived until his next birthday.

I kept thinking back to when he fell on me. Did he look like it was hurt? In pain? Suddenly all of Mom's warnings seemed so clear – the way she didn't want him hunting, how she fawned over him when he got that little scratch… For all she knew, he could have been hemorrhaging. "Well why… why didn't you just…" I tried, clenching my fists together for the hundredth time that day. I kept blinking to keep the tears out of my eyes, but more and more kept coming. "…tell me?" I squeaked, surprised at how weak and frail my voice sounded; it sounded exactly like I felt.

"I didn't want you to worry," she answered, tilting her head to the side a little. "And I didn't want for him to… to stop being a little boy." A few tears escaped, and I had the sudden temptation to hug her. At first I tried to fight it, but then I realized that it was useless; I needed my mom. I grabbed onto her and hugged her, burying my face into her shoulder as the tears finally started to fall. She cried on me, too, and rubbed my back. "Avoria, you would have been so worried! You would have never taken him hunting!"

"I thought you didn't want me to," I whispered, holding her tighter. "I thought you didn't want _me_."

She let go of me for a moment and took a step back. She brought her hands to my face and cupped my cheeks, forcing me to look at her. "Don't you ever think that, Avoria. I know that I'm a mean, nasty, cruel woman. But if I wasn't, I'd be weak, and sniveling, and spineless. Would you really have liked me any better that way?" I shook my head and closed my eyes, letting a few more salty drops roll down my face.

"No…" I whispered. I brought my hand up to wipe the snot away from my nose, like I'd seen Brick do so many times. "I wouldn't have."

"That's my brave girl," she said, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "You go to bed, now, Sweetie. Get a good rest for tomorrow's reaping. We'll talk more, but you need to sleep. Clear your head."

"Ok…" and for the first time in my life, I relented to my mother's wishes.

Sleep didn't come easily that night; my body was covered in painful bruises, and my head was covered with painful thoughts. When I finally woke up, I had trouble believing that I had ever really fallen asleep.

So that's where I am now. I'm up and well-rested; I have to change into my reaping gown. It's a beautiful gown, and I've only worn it once – when I was at my first reaping last year. It's yellow, so it always seems to contrast really nicely with my hair and eyes, which are both a dark shade of brown. The sleeves are off the shoulder and loose, but since the bodice is tight, the dress stays in place. There's a sweetheart neckline, and since the dress is padded (thanks to my mother), it looks like I have some semblance of a chest. Once the dress reaches my waist, it poofs out a little, adding to the false idea that I have any curves. It continues to poof out a little more until it reaches the bottom, which curves in just as it passes my knees.

Although I wouldn't admit it to anybody, this dress makes me feel beautiful. I feel like more than the ill-tempered Elf girl from Planet 3; I feel like a princess, but I'd punch the first person to tell me that I look like one. Unless it was Brick, of course, who always seems to think that I look like a princess.

_Don't think about Brick_, I warn myself, walking over to the shelf where Mother has already laid the make-up out. It's the make-up that she used when she was younger, and her mother before her, and so on. Since it's only used seven times every generation, it's still going strong. There's no need to waste perfectly good make-up. I begin to cover the bruises on my shoulders and arms with the liquid base, which is creamy and cold to the touch. I add a few more touch ups with the powder, just to make sure that when I'm in the sunlight, I won't have leave any traces of my injuries to be seen by the visible eye. Using the blush, I pink my skin up a little bit, so that I don't appear quite as pale. My lips are a little more difficult, seeing as one of them was busted. I just coat them in a dark lipstick and hope that it will hide the scab. I coat my lashes in some mascara, and then I'm done.

Just like yesterday, my ears are looking even today. This has to be some sort of sign – of what, I don't know. I tuck my hair behind them and slip on my shoes, which are small, and yellow, and ruffled. They fit me perfectly, just like they did last year, and I smile. A quick look in the mirror tells me that I _am_ beautiful; I _am_ a princess; I _am_ ready.

Once I leave my room, I see that my mother and Brick are sitting in the living room, watching our little television. On it, there's an announcement saying that we should arrive at our town's Square to prepare for the start of the Hunger Games, which are, amazingly, still going strong after exactly one thousand years. Yes; today is the start of the _one thousandth _Hunger Games. You really would think that it would have evolved by now, but it hasn't. Not in a good way, at least. When Panem took over Earth, it became _too_ powerful. It wanted more. So it just conjured up twelve new planets and twelve new species. Actually, when we originally started as a species (I'm told that we were based off of an old human myth), we knew nothing about the Capitol. When we were finally strong enough to be a thriving planet, the concurred us – just like they did the two planets before us and the nine planets after us. They wanted us to know that no matter what, they could take our freedom; _they_ were in charge. And they still are.

"You're up," Mother says, turning back to me. She offers me a smile, but I don't give her one back. It's just a little too strange; one heart to heart and everything between us is suddenly fixed? I don't think so. It's going to take more time than that – a _lot_ more time.

"Avi!" Brick says. Running up to greet me. He's dressed in his little penguin suit, even though he won't be reaped. Not this year, and probably not ever. I'm not sure if that thought makes me happy or sad. "You look really pretty!" I give him a big hug, but then I loosen immediately. For a split second, I was nervous that I was going to hurt him.

Maybe _that_'s why Mom didn't tell me about it in the first place. It doesn't make it right – not by a long shot – but it does make is more understandable, I guess. A _little_ more understandable.

"I sure am," I answer, letting him go. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yup!" he answers, bobbing his head back and forth.

"Alright!" I've never let my brother think that the Hunger Games are bad, even though they are. I typically don't let myself think about them, either. It would be ridiculous to – we all know that the Capitol is full of very twisted, sick minded people. Even if we, as entire planet, rebelled, we'd still loose. They've got power over us. If we say anything bad about them, they'll kill us. Or worse – our families. So we all just keep our mouths shut.

The walk to the Square doesn't take very long; we're there in a matter of minutes. I give Mom and Brick a quick kiss before I line of with the other thirteen year olds. The good thing is that I only have my name entered in the drawing ten times. Two of the times have been on account of my birthday (turning twelve and thirteen, respectively), and the other eight are from the tesserae I get every year for my family. Ten really isn't that much, especially when compared to the eighteen-year-olds who have who knows how many family members, so I'm not worried for myself – I'm worried for them.

The big screen on the front of the Justice Building lights up, and I see the face of Token Loid, the man in charge of Planet 3's Center. This is only his second year running the Hunger Games on Planet 3; his father died two years ago, leaving him in charge of the planet. He's fairly young (for a Representative), with his icy blue eyes and his impeccably brushed blonde hair – my guess is anywhere from his late twenties to his early thirties. This is probably a good time to mention that the average lifespan for an Elf _should_ be about a hundred years or so. Anyone who lives near the Center is guaranteed at least that much. The rest of us, however, are lucky if we make it to fifty.

Behind him, there are three other people. One of them – our escort, Hanya Trile – is giddy with anticipation. The other two – our last victors, Massika Krabbitin and Jobain Mivik – look bored and excited, respectively. Massika is the more recent of the two victors, as she won five years ago. She's fairly tall for an Elven woman, and she's got this straight black hair that adds to her overall creepy effect. She's also scowling. Jobain, who won maybe seven years ago (we've had five victors in all – the last three were over fifty years ago), looks much more friendly. He's got this bright red hair and happy blue eyes. Unfortunately, if I just so happen to get reaped, I'll know which won I'll be training with.

Representative Loid starts his speech with the history of Panem as a nation and how they concurred everything in their path. Then he began to talk about the rising of their nation as a planet and how that affected the games. He explained why they made the twelve planets, and what all of their purposes were. He talked about the new species on each of the planets – the Felpurr on Planet 1, the Droids of Planet 6, the Dwarves on Planet 10, and so on and so forth. How Planet 3 came about and was made came up in the lecture, as did it's evolution. When he was _finally_ done, Hanya took over, looking all too eager. She has this unnatural shade of green hair that's up in a pixie cut, bright green eyes, and a very sparkly green suit. It's almost painful to look at her, but in a way, she reminds me of a Leprechaun. A very annoying, very perky, Leprechaun.

"Hello people of Planet 3," she says in her snotty, high-pitched voice. She sounds like an alien. Then again, if it weren't for the pointed ears and upturned nose, I probably would have accused her of being one. "Are you ready for the Hunger Games?"

With the Peacekeepers watching us, we have no choice but to clap and cheer politely. The little kids, the ones who don't know what's going on, are jumping for joy. Most of us who are (involuntarily) participating in the reaping are just clapping quietly – not a single one is cheering. But then again, that's not really all that unexpected. Nobody here wants to be sentenced to their death. "We're going to start the drawing for the two contestants on all of Planet 3 that gets to participate. Oh, and I almost forgot… May the odds be _ever_ in your favor." I don't know who started that phrase – but I can promise that if I meet them, I _will_ skin them alive.

Nobody says a word as she starts the drawing. There's a very unlikely chance that it's going to be anyone from here – this _is_ a planet wide drawing, with the names of all the kids ages twelve through eighteen entered various amounts of times. We're just one tiny city.

"Alright," Hanya says, holding a small slip of paper in front of her. "And it looks like our female contestant for the Hunger Games will be… Avoria Maydel, from the city of Carvonova."

Unlikely chance my _foot_.

_I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I_

**Author's Note:**

**I'm going to thank Twirlgirl821 for being my first reviewer (and for something else that will come up later in the story!)! And I'd like to ask I'm not a Leprechaun if they have an account/e-mail address so that I can send them anything that needs to be beta'd. Thanks for the help, you two! Keep it up! I beg of you! (: **

**Oh, and sorry about completely changing the mother-like-character on you. It just seemed like a good thing to throw in. She won't be in there for that much longer, anyways. :D**

**-QOTB-**


	3. Shuriken Kisses

**QUEENOFTHEBUTTERFLIES**  
><span>GALACTIC GAMES<span>  
><em>SHURIKEN KISSES<em>

* * *

><p>I stand frozen to the spot, unable to come up with any sort of immediate response. I know that I'm being watched by <em>billions<em> of people, but when I'm no longer one person in a crowd of many, it suddenly seems much more terrifying. I remember that _I_ can see myself, too, and look up at the large screen, which _had_ been showing the face of Hanya Trile. Now it's like staring into a mirror. It looks like my face has gone pale, even with all of the make-up caked on it. And I look fragile, breakable – like I don't belong on that screen. I don't feel beautiful anymore; I feel like a little girl playing in her mommy's closet. Which, in a way, I am.

I try to remember the faces of the tributes from planets one and two, but it's futile; I woke up too late to see them. It probably doesn't even matter – they're Careers. We're not. At least _I'm_ not, anyways. There are certain spots on Planet 3 that train for the Hunger Games. Both Massika _and_ Jobain come from cities that are favored by the Center. I doubt that the Center's even _heard_ of Carvonova.

Fearing that I've spent too much time doing nothing, I take my eyes off of the screen and start for the podium. People automatically part, creating a path for their new female tribute. Some of them look down at their own feet and pretend that nothing major is happening. Most of them stare at me, their eyes holding something resembling pity. "What are you all looking at?" I say under my breath, shooting an angry glare at one of the girls who is staring at me. She turns away from me, embarrassed to have been caught. _Good_.

Mayor Quintyl, who had been sitting is in his fancily decorated chair, snoozing, quickly stands up and prepares to shake my hand. I don't smile at him – I just shake his hand. Before he lets go, he whispers, "Good luck," to me, so that nobody else can hear him. "Do us proud," he says, louder, so that the cameras catch his words this time. I nod respectfully before taking my place at the center of the podium. I've seen this happen often enough to what I'm doing. I stand perfectly straight and tall, making sure to loosen my shoulders up a bit so that I don't appear _completely_ rigid and tense.

I'm standing there for almost a full minute before the crowd starts to clap. At first it's just one clap, and when I look up, I notice that it's coming from the girl I frightened. Her eyes lock with mine, and suddenly a flood of words pass between us. She's wishing me luck; she thinks I stand a chance. I let the corner of my lips pull up into a tiny smile, and I give her a small nod. _I'll try my best not to disappoint_.

Her one clap turns into two, which then turns into many. The entire city of Carvonova is clapping for me, Avoria Maydel, ill-tempered Elf girl. I feel a strong sense of pride taking over of me, telling me to say something smart instead of keeping quiet, like I normally do. I don't think I've ever felt a feeling as strong as this, so I grab ahold of it. "People of Carvonova!" I say, trying to capture the hope before it flees. "I. Am. Your. _Champion!_" I thrust my fist into the air and allow myself to smile at the crowd. They explode in cheers and roars, and somewhere in there, I manage to catch Brick's eyes.

I place a kiss in the center of my palm and throw it at Brick like it's one of my shuriken. _I'll miss you_, it says, but there's no way for him to read it; no way for him to know. He reaches up high to catch it and puts it in his pocket, keeping it safe for when I'm gone.

"_Avi. Avi. Avi_," he starts, whispering a silent cheering of my name. Then my mother joins in, and the other families who are standing around the age groups do, too. Soon everyone is screaming my name with their hands clapping and their feet stomping. "_Avi! Avi! Avi!_" This is such an unusual sight – no one on Planet 3 cheers about being reaped. _No one_. But now I have the feeling that the entire planet is cheering for _me_, the tribute who took on the challenge. It's a kind of thrill that I've never experienced before.

The crowd starts to quiet down, and the screens change from images of me to images of Hanya Trite. She looks positively delighted, glad to have _something_ interesting going on. I'm betting that she wishes she would have picked a tribute from Carvonova earlier; I can see it in her face. "Well, isn't _she_ a promising one?" Hanya exclaims in her nasally voice. The screen flashes to Massika and Jobain, gaging their reactions. Jobain lets out an encouraging whistle, and I smile at the screen. _What's with all the smiles today, Avoria?_ I send the question to the back of my mind, not yet willing to sacrifice my newfound excitement. Massika just raises an eyebrow, as if to say, "_We'll see_."

When the screen goes back to Hanya, and she moves on. "Well, _that_ was positively splendid! Now it's time for our male tribute… Can you handle all the excitement?" She lets out a weird little giggle, and I cringe at the sound. It causes a few members of the crowd to cover their own giggles, but on the screen, Hanya is oblivious. After she unfolds the paper, she squints at it for a second, then shrugs. "Alright… And our male tribute for the _one thousandth_ Hunger Games is… Beltross Coven, from…" She pauses again for dramatic effect, and it gives me just enough time to realize that the name she just said is familiar. "Carvonova, Planet 3!"

I'm stunned. Completely and utterly stunned. No two people from the same city have even been chosen as tributes. But today, as I'm beginning to learn, is a day just _full_ of firsts.

I see the crowd part for a second time as a boy jogs towards the stage. The second I lay my eyes on him, I know why I remember him – he's the boy I used to tease, the one who _begged_ his parents to move across town so that I wouldn't torture him. But from the looks of things, he's grown up. He stands tall, almost a foot taller than I am even though we're the same age. He's got this medium length, light brown hair that looks as if it's purposely messed up. He's definitely gained some muscles over the last seven years, and a confidant smile, too.

"Hello, all!" he says, walking onto the stage. As he smiles and waves at the crowd, I feel a little bit of an ego-jab coming on. But I guess that's what I get for falling into the desires of my pride; it's not often that I do, but sometimes it's just… It's just to _good_ to fight against. I'll have to learn to control that. "Happy Hunger Games!" He shakes Mayor Quintyl's hand and joins me at the center of the stage.

The screen, which is normally split is half so that each of the tributes are shown, is focused on both of us. My dress looks abnormally bright compared to Beltross's black slacks and dark blue shirt, but not bad; no, it's bright in a good way. We stand and listen to the cheers of the people for a few minutes longer. Beltross doesn't mind waving at the crowd, and not wanting to seem completely heartless, I smile yet again, but this one isn't an honest smile. I think that the effect of being chosen is finally is starting to hit me, but I really don't want it to. I want my few minutes of pride back, so I pretend that I've got them – more for my sake than anybody else's.

Hanya is back on the screen, and a big smile is decorating her face. "Well, we haven't had any volunteer requests submitted! It looks like Avoria and Beltross are Planet 3's Hunger Games tributes! Congratulations!" she beams, and of course, as predicted, she says, "Let the Games begin!"

The cameras turn to Representative Loid, and he starts to read the long – and unbearably boring – Treaty of Treason. When it's over, he has me and Beltross shake hands. Beltross's grip is as cold and hard as steel – in other words, completely unexpected. The anthem of Panem begins to play, and soon afterwards the Peacekeepers come and escort Beltross and me into the building so that we can say our final goodbyes to our families. But I don't think about that; all I can think about is that right at this moment, the Trynnies on Planet 4 are listening to _their_ Representative give the opening Hunger Games speech; _they're_ about to sacrifice to of their children. I send a quick prayer to them as the Peacekeepers open the door of the room I'll be in for the next hour. They drop me off in front of the couch and then station themselves beside the door – as if I'm going to try to escape.

The first person to enter my room is Brick, following by my mother. "Avi!" he yells, running towards me. I open my arms and give him a big hug, hoping that it'll last him however long he needs it to. When we part, I brush a strand of hair out of his eyes, and he smiles. "Can you believe it, Avi? You're going to be in the _Hunger Games!_" I sigh. It's time to talk to him about the Games; time to tell him that I probably won't be coming out alive. It's a conversation that I've been dreading for a while – telling Brick the truth about the Capitol, that they're nothing more than a bunch of savage humans who enjoy watching children kill each other.

"C'mere, Buddy," I say, sitting down on the couch. I pat the seat next to me, and Brick sits down. My mother is still standing at the other end of the couch, trying her best not to cry for Brick's sake. "You know that I love you, right?"

He nods. "Lots and lots!"

"Yeah – lots and lots," I agree, turning myself so that I'm facing him. I change the subject. "Do you remember watching the Games on television last year, Brick? And the year before that?" He nods, but I don't think he has any idea where I am _really_ going with this. How could he? "And you know that out of all twenty-four people, only one of them gets to win?"

"Mmhmm!"

"Well, Brick…" I start. I can't figure out how to say it – how to tell him that it's not _just_ a game – it's life. I used to be so good at this, telling people how it is. I never had a problem spitting out the truth, not before I had to tell Brick. Why are all of these new developments happening _now_, of all times? Mom's secret, my newfound spectrum of emotions… It's just plain unfair. "The other twenty-three…" Then again, so is life – looking into those big brown eyes of his, I realize that I just can't do it. I can't tell him that they _die_ – for _real_. I can't shatter his ideal image of the Capitol – that may be the very thing that'll protect him some day. "Well, they go away."

"For how long?"

"They… forever, Buddy. They go away forever." I guess it's a close enough analogy, but the look on his face as reality dawns on him is still painful.

His lower lip begins to quiver. "But… but Avi! I don't _want_ you to go away forever!"

"I know. I don't want to go, either. But I have to, Brick."

"Tell them you don't want to!" he protests. He throws his arms around my neck and hugs me, burying his face deep into my shoulder. I hug him back, making sure to hold him tightly to me. I don't want to let go – I don't want to leave my little brother behind. There are so many things I _don't_ want to happen that are going to happen anyways.

"I can't…" I say, trying to keep my voice strong so that I don't cry. I don't want Brick to see me crying. "I have to go. But Brick…" I pull back from him, and raise his face up by tucking my index finger under his chin. "You're strong. And you're the bravest little boy I know. You're _Brick_ – powerful, and sturdy, and stable. And no matter what happens, I want you to _promise_ me –" I have to turn his face back towards me when I say this because he's looked away. "_Promise_ me that you'll _always_ be Brick, ok? Even if I have to go away forever. Promise me that, and I'll promise _you_ that I'll try my best _not_ to go away."

He sniffles a little bit, and I use the hem of his shirt to rub the snot away from his nose. "I promise," he says in the unsteady voice of an upset little boy.

"Then so do I," I assure him. I mess with his hair a little, and try to smile. I don't think I pulled it off very well. Mom comes and takes his hand. When Brick stands up, I stand up, too.

"I'm gonna miss you, Sweetie," Mom says, wrapping one arm around me. I know that her eyes are clinched shut, and I feel a few tears staining my back. "But I still want you to come home, alright?" When we part, she strokes my cheek with the back of her hand and smiles at me. "My beautiful little girl…"

"Just… just take care of Brick," I say, unable to think of anything else. This is too much too fast, and I _know_ that there probably won't be another chance for us to make amends, but it's just… too much to handle. Too strange. There are _too_ many toos in this situation.

"And… and I'm sorry," she says, brushing away a few of her tears. "I'm sorry that I was never really a mother to you. When you come back, I… I promise I'll try harder. I'm sorry that I'm throwing all of this on you now – I-I don't want you to feel bad if you're not ready, Avoria. This is all my fault." It's like she can read my mind – I'm not sure if that's scary or endearing.

"It's ok," I assure her. "You… you did what you thought was best. And even though you went about it in a _really_ strange way –" a small smile crosses her face as I say this, "I still kind of respect you for it." I _know_ that's true – although if I were in her situation, I would have gone about it differently. I least I _hope_ I would have.

"Thank you, Sweetie…" She places a kiss on my cheek, and I return the favor. "I'll see you when you get home."

As they start to leave, Brick suddenly turns around. He runs back to give me another hug, and I get over my momentary shock rather quickly and hug him back. "I almost forgot," he says, digging into his pocket. "Here. It can be your token!" It's a small golden ring, and at closer inspection, I see that it's engraved with a single black rose.

"Grampa's ring…" I whisper, shocked that Brick would give it to me. The ring has typically passed through the oldest male child of a generation – although it _has_ belonged to women in the case of no son born. It didn't belong to my grandfather first, but we refer to it as Grampa's ring because when we were little, Dad always told us stories of Grampa, one of which was about the day Grampa gave him the ring. That was always my favorite story. "I… I don't know what to say."

"It's ok," he says, "I want you to have it."

"Really? Are you sure?" Brick's always loved this thing – he never actually got to meet Grampa, so this ring is the only thing that Brick has of his.

"I'm sure…" he says, nodding to himself. "I think it's supposed to bring you luck."

"Thanks, Brick… I really appreciate it." I give him a quick hug, and then he runs back to Mom. "I'll keep it warm for you!"

"Bye, Avi!" he calls back as they leave the room. "I'll miss you!"

"I'll miss you, too!" I stand up and wave at him as they're escorted out. I wave until I can't see them anymore; until my arm hurts. And then, for the remaining forty-five minutes, I curl up on the couch and cry.

_I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I_

**Author's Note:**

**Bah! I have to keep looking back at previous chapters to make sure that I get the information right! For the 'Shuriken Kisses' scene, I had to remember if I gave her shuriken or throwing knives. xD I want to say thank you to all of my reviewers! I also want to thank you all for explaining the SYOT. (: I love each and every one of you! *Shuriken Kiss***

**Every time I read over this, I found at least five or ten mistakes! AHH! So I apologize for all the ones that are still left – feel free to rant about them in your reviewing so that I can fix them! **

**To Twirlgirl821 and ChaosUmbrella, I want to thank you for your opinions on Brick! I'm actually finding myself getting attached to the little guy! **

**To Missus Iggy, I'm definitely going to use your idea. Just you wait! And I'll make sure to give a special thanks to you in the Author's Note of that chapter! **

**To Rebecca, I say go for it! ;D All I ask is that you credit me with any ideas my story gives you! **

**I hope this covers everything! *More Shuriken Kisses***

**-QOTB-**


	4. Torture Was Her Name

**QUEENOFTHEBUTTERFLIES**  
><span>GALACTIC GAMES<span>  
><em>CHAPTER FOUR<em>

Luckily, I'm able to get a good look at my face in one of the ridiculously shiny vases before I have to leave. I clean the mascara off of my cheeks and try to rub in the base that's hiding my bruises. I had completely forgotten about them, so I guess the make-up did its job.

I'm so glad that the Capitol doesn't show this private hour; I'm almost positive that _somebody_ watches it – probably Gamemakers, who laugh at the tributes' misery – but at least the _other_ tributes don't get to see it (as far as I know, anyways), and if they do, at least my _family_ won't. That brings me a little rest. By the time the Peacekeepers are ready to escort me to my shuttle, my eyes are no longer red and puffy. They're brown and beautiful again.

The hallways are filled with cameras and reporters, all of them wanting information on me.

"_Avoria, how have you prepared for the Hunger Games?_

"_Avoria, are you excited about the Games?"_

"_Avoria, what's your darkest secret?"_

All I can hear is my name followed by different strings of words that I don't care about. If I'm supposed to say anything to them, somebody might want to tell me now because I'm doing the best I can to ignore them. The butterflies in my stomach are so jumpy that I think they're going to follow whatever I had for… oh, what _was_ the last meal I ate? Was it yesterday's lunch? Breakfast? I don't even know. I must be _starving_.

When we enter the launching bay – which every city has, although most of them just contain small transport shuttles for city officials – the flash of the cameras and the screaming of the reporters is swiftly cut off. The Peacekeepers lead me all the way to the left of the shuttle bay and then three rows in, where my shuttle lies. They tell me that this is just a temporary arrangement – Beltross and I will share a shuttle that is set to autopilot us to the Center, where we'll meet up with Hanya, Massika, and Jobain. As soon as I'm in the small vehicle, I scoot over to make room for Beltross, who just so happens to be right behind me.

"Hi," he says as the Peacekeepers close the door behind him. "How are you?"

"Good," I answer. I'm sitting rather rigidly. I've never been in _any_ sort of vehicle before; I don't know what to do. "Just a little…"

"Terrified?"

"Sounds about right."

He laughs a little, and I can't help but smile. He seems really nice – I hope somebody else has to kill him. I remember that I can't get attached – I have to come back home, for Brick. Friend will only get in the way of that.

"Well, I'm Ross," he says, offering me a handshake. I stare at his hand skeptically for a second, pondering whether or not I should take it. "It's ok – I don't bite."

"That's good to know." I turn the other way and lean against the side of the shuttle. I don't want to start forming friendships – not unless I have to. It'll just be too painful in the end. I've seen the tributes on their Victory Tours. I always hate watching the ones who had allies from Planet 3. Hearing them describe – in rather gruesome details – how they had to kill their ally to win. That's unpleasant. What I _really_ hate is when they describe an ally who's been killed. They get this glassy look in their eyes when they talk about the friend they lost, and you know that they'll never be the same again, no matter _how_ much therapy they go through.

Suddenly the shuttle roars to life, bringing me out of my depressing thoughts. All sorts of different colored buttons light up. In front of us is what I think is the control station. Right between me and 'Ross' is some sort of map, and I'm assuming that the zigzagged red line is supposed to be the course we're supposed to take. There are a bunch of bright yellow dots, which must be stars. There's also what I'm thinking is Planet 3, because the red line runs along next to it.

A cool metallic voice comes on through some sort of speaker system saying, "This is the Panem Interplanetary Small Transport Vessel _Noelani. _Please fasten your seatbelts. We are about to descend."

I do as the voice says, and buckle up. A few seconds later, one of the walls of the launching bay starts opening up, and both Ross and I gasp. The sight before me is something I never could have imagined, not even in my most beautiful dreams. The sky is the most incredible shade of midnight blue, and the stars are twinkling brighter than ever. It's all so big; so clear; so _perfect_…

When the ship starts up, I'm feeling really nervous. I grip onto my seatbelt so tightly that my knuckles turn white, but I hardly notice. All I can look at is the vast area of space surrounding me, engulfing me in it's wonder.

There are lots of other ships flying about, most likely the cargo ships that go back and forth between the Capitol and the planets. Sometimes we can see them from the planet, but only when they're really close. Out here, they're flying everywhere, like a bunch of frantic Malkis birds – small little creatures on Planet 3 that are brightly colored and fly as if they're dancing.

"This is amazing…" I whisper, reaching out to touch the front window. I press my hands to the glass, which is probably as close as I'm ever going to get to outer space.

"Tell me about it…" He lets out a long whistle that reminds me of the one Jobain gave me back when I was on the podium. I feel another blush coming on, even though I know Ross's whistle wasn't directed at me. "It sure is pretty out there."

I snort. "That's an understatement."

"How long do you think this ride should take?" he asks, completely changing the subject. He sits forward in his chair to inspect the control panel, and I notice that there's a small scar along the the back of his right ear. I choose not to say anything about it.

"I don't know – maybe an hour. It depends on how fast we're going." I hope that we get there soon, though, because I think I'm starting to feel a little space sickness coming on. My stomach is churning, and I just don't feel right. I lean back in my seat and close my eyes, hoping to alleviate some of the annoyance.

The ride only ends up being a half-hour long, which I'm thankful for. My newfound space sickness – combined with Ross's obsessive talking and my hunger – has really taken its toll on me. By the time I'm stepping off of the shuttle, I have to take deep breaths and some rather unpleasant swallows to keep my stomach in order. Peacekeepers lead Ross and me down a few bright blue corridors, decorated with abstract paintings. We pass room after room, until finally, the Peacekeepers stop us at one particularly ugly door. They hoist us inside and lock the door behind us. As if the door wasn't ugly enough – being the color of puke and having hideous, knotted wood – the room is even worse. It's bright orange – my least favorite color, simply because it's good for nothing. There's only one couch, and it's the same color as the baby puke green of the door. There's _one_ painting in the room, and it _literally_ looks like somebody threw up on a canvas. Of course, all of this barf-related stuff is _really_ helping my stomach, too…

Ross and I just look at each other for a second before we take a few more steps into the room and start inspecting our surroundings. We don't get too long – only a minute or two before Hanya Trite walks in through a door that I didn't even notice. "Alright…" she says, looking down at some sort of technological organizing device. "You must be Avoria and Beltross…"

"Ross," he immediately corrects, offering her a handshake. She ignores him. I smirk.

"Oh, there's so much to do, and so little time to _do_ it!" she exclaims, shaking her head. "Have you seen Massika and Jobain? Where could they have gone?"

"We're right here, Hanya," Massika says, entering through the secret doorway. Jobain is right behind her, and Hanya sighs in relief. "No need to get your panties in a knot." Hanya glares at her for a second, but then decides that the schedule is more important.

"Alright, then let's go! We've got a ship to catch, and I'll be damned if we're the last ones to make it to Panem. Let's move!" Her words sound so unnatural coming in the nasally tone. Anything she says sounds overly dramatic, which it probably is. But regardless of that, Ross and I follow her through the secret door. Massika and Jobain bring up the rear, and we all just speed walk.

I'm walking as fast as I can without passing Hanya, but Massika's feet are at my heels the entire time. Wearing this dress doesn't make things any easier – we haven't even had a chance to change into some normal clothes! But instead of complaining about it, I just hike up my dress and keep going.

We're dragged down more and more endless corridors until – _finally_ – we arrive at another kind of launching bay. I can see the ships through a giant window, and they're _huge_. They must be able to carry thousands of passengers.

"Are we taking one of _those_?" Ross asks.

"Of course we are," Massika snaps, not bothering to hide the irritation in her voice. Ouch. "What did you _think_ we were going to take? Another puny vessel like the ones from Carbonzoa?"

"Carvonova," I correct. I would glare at her, but she's behind me, and that would just slow us down.

"Whatever. It's not like it matters."

I'm just about to snap at her and say something I shouldn't when Hanya interrupts, saying, "Massika – _try_ being _nice_ to the tributes for a change. It tends to help your chances of them listening to you."

"Yeah, Massi," Jobain says in his good-natured way. "Cool it."

"I _told_ you not to call me Massi," Massika says, and then she and Jobain proceed to get into an argument, which Hanya then has to break up. It's obvious that nobody's happy with the current arrangement, so the rest of the trip to the ship is traveled in complete silence. Once we get to the ship we'll be riding for the next day or so – the Panem Interplanetary Capitol Transport Vessel _Genesis_ – all Ross and I want to do is stare at it. But Hanya hurries us along, telling us that we're already late as it is. Apparently, she had to pull a lot of strings to get us on this ship. Most competitors have to wait at least a day before they get transportation to Panem.

Since we're so late, and the ship's no longer attached to the docking ring, and the Captain finds it an _honor_ to be carrying such privileged children, some Peacekeepers have us each stand on a blue octagon thing that then _transports_ us to our courters. I'm not even kidding when I say that I felt as if every molecule in my body had been separated and taken for a joy ride without my permission. It only lasted a brief second, but that was definitely a second I didn't want to relive.

Now that we're all on the ship, Hanya has calmed down immensely. Apparently, the 'hard' part of the day is over with. She assigns us all to our individual rooms, and tells us to get changed into something suitable for dining. Any clothing needs are apparently taken care of.

I don't hesitate in going to be room. I really don't want to spend another second around those people – _especially_ not Massika. I'm going to be spending enough time with her as it is. My room is really nice – much nicer than my room at home, which I guess is expected. First off, it's _huge_. There's a dresser, a bookshelf, a television set, a desk and computer, and a bed – with a _huge_ window that faces the stars above it. The walls are painted in a very pretty shade of light blue, one that reminds me of the sky on Planet 3. There's room for me to dance, if I wish to, but I don't wish to, so it's mostly just empty space. I just want to get ready for dinner before my stomach caves in and eats itself.

I go through some of the clothes in the dresser. All of them are very elaborate, and none of them seem appropriate for a simple dinner. I shrug off my yellow dress and set it carefully on my bed. I take off my undergarments, too, because the dresser holds new pairs of beautifully designed silk ones. I pick the light brown set that's decorated with green vines and leaves. The bra is even padded – as if the dresser knew _exactly_ who to expect, and _that_ thought makes me feel giddy and paranoid all at once. I put on one of the simplest dresses I can find – a green sundress with white polka dots. I lace up a pair of brown leather boots – they feel like heaven on my feet – and use a small golden hair bow to pull my hair back into a ponytail.

I see that there's an attached bathroom to my room, and I immediately go to inspect it. Now that I think about it, I probably should have taken a shower before I changed, but I didn't know that it was here then, so… I guess I'll just have to take one when we get back from dinner.

I head out of my new room feeling a little bit shy to be wearing something so beautiful to somewhere I'm _bound_ to stain it. Jobain is the only one who's always out of his room, and he smiles at me when I step near the couch on which he's sitting. "Well don't you look absolutely divine?" he says, and I blush.

"Thanks," I mumble, unsure of how to answer such a direct compliment. "You look rather nice yourself."

"Oh, this old thing?" he says, standing up so that I can get a good look at him. "I only through this on because Hanya was on my back about changing out of my uniform before we feast."

"Feast?" I ask uncertainly, now fearing that my dress may be too simple. When Hanya said _dinner_, I assumed that she meant something _here_ – in these courters. "What do you mean by feast?"

"Well, the tributes' feast is typically held at the Center, where the mentors and escorts and whatnot are. But since Hanya was such a hurry to get you two on the ship, the feast has been moved to the ship, too," he says, as if it's just that simple. When things come to the Capitol and the Games, things are _never_ just that simple. I should have known.

"What will we be eating?"

"Anything you can imagine," he says. I'm about to ask him some more questions, but Hanya and Ross come out of their rooms, shortly followed by Massika. I like talking to Jobain, but I don't want to do it in front of everybody, so I just keep my mouth shut and decide that I'll wait until we get to the feast to ask him anything.

"We're not going to use that weird teleporter-thing again, are we?" Ross asks, rubbing his arms. "That thing really freaked me out." My thoughts exactly.

"You better get used to it," Hanya says, walking over to the door. It automatically parts for her, and she motions for us to follow her out. "You'll be seeing more of them in the Games." Ross and I share a glance as we follow Hanya, but neither of us says anything. _Transporters_? I think, furrowing my eyebrows. _Why would we need transporters in the arena? There have never been transporters in the arena… Not unless you count the hover crafts that come to collect the dead bodies…_ I shake it off, deciding that all will be revealed in due time (although I _wish_ it would just be revealed _now_).

Hanya is walking at a much slower pace this time, so I can actually take time to enjoy the corridors. They're not really all that glamorous – just a bunch of grey walls with a few access panels every now and then. But we pass other people by, too, and not all of them are Elven or human. I try to remember the species from the pictures I saw in schoolbooks. There's one very tall man who's entire body is covered in hair. Around his face, it's trimmed and brushed out so that I can see his eyes, mouth, and nose. _Mook_, I think, identifying him with what I remember Mook to look like. _Planet 7, lumber – they're good hunters, excellent scouters, and have some sort of special communication with animals. Weakness? They're slow._ I see a woman with grey-ish tinted skin, and a very square-based body. _Droid. Planet 6, medical research and morphlings – they're smart, quick, and have good stamina. Weakness? Water. Rain._ I do this the entire way down to the dining room, trying to sharpen my skills before I go into battle. Maybe I'll so some research on my new computer tonight.

When we first entire the dining hall, it's completely void of anything other than tables with white tablecloths. At first I think we've made a mistake, but Hanya struts to a particularly long table and stands at one end of it. She gestures for us to make a line, and we do. Only a few seconds later, big bellied chefs with fluffy white hats come out and start setting platter after platter down on the table. "Shouldn't their be Avoxes?" I whisper to Jobain.

"At the Capitol," he responds, licking his lips. "They only have Avoxes at the Capitol."

"Oh. My bad."

"No problem. C'mon – let me show you some of the best dishes!" he says, taking a plate. The line (can five people be considered a line?) has already started moving, even though the chefs only have half the course laid out. There are giant bowls of fruit, ranging in color from magenta to topaz. There are small roasted mammals on large plates, all of them with juicy apples in their mouths. There are puddings, and soups, and chowders, and salads, and so much more! To my eyes, everything looks delicious. My stomach in rumbling with hunger, begging me to feed it before it dies of happiness.

"Ok…" I say, too mesmerized by the dishes to really be paying any attention. We've never had a meal like this at home – not once! The closest we came was during Massika's and Jobain's individual Victory Tours, where we had the Capitol send us delicacies. Don't get me wrong – that food was great – but it was _nothing_ compared to this – _nothing_.

I let Jobain lead me around the table, picking up various things and putting them on my plate for me. I'm too busy smelling all the scents to notice how useless I'm being. By the time we make it to the end of the table, my plate is stacked high with food, but it looks so small in comparison to everything the table has to offer.

"Don't worry," he says, lightly grabbing my arm. He literally has to pull me away from the table. "You can get seconds!"

Even though there are over two dozen tables to choose from, we all sit at the same one. I'm between Ross and Jobain, but it could always be worse – I _could_ be next to Massika, but Jobain willingly freed me from that torture by sitting between us.

I can't decide what I want to try a bite of first. I figure that I'll just start at the top and make my way down the plate. The first thing I see is a leg of some sort of meat. There's still steam coming from the inside. Holding the leg in my right hand, I take a huge bite of it, savoring the delicious taste of the creature. All too soon, that one piece is gone, and I'm reaching for something else – some kind of fruit. The juices trickle down my chin as I take a bite, but I couldn't care less. I probably look like a starving animal, shoving all of this food into my mouth. Soon I start taking things in two at a time, mixing flavors together. I dip some sort of bread in some sort of soup an take a bite; I practically moan at how good it tastes.

I'm not even halfway done with my plate when I start feeling full. Ross is still chowing down on his, and Massika and Hanya are still taking dainty bites – but then again, they didn't have that much food to begin with. I guess a life of luxury doesn't really leave you going hungry.

I turn to Jobain, who's already finished his plate. "Wow," I say, tilting my head to the side a little. "You must have been hungry."

"I always refuse to eat for two days before the feast. That way, I get to eat as much as I want." He winks at me.

"That's pretty smart…" I admit, nodding my head. Then again, I don't think I ate for two days before this, either, and I'm almost stuffed! I look back longingly at the table, wishing that I could go back and try all of the food, even if I haven't finished what's on my plate.

"Would anyone like dessert?" I hear, and I turn back to see where it came from. It came from a very interesting looking chef – the only nonhuman one in the group. He resembles a dog, sort of, with his midnight black pelt and his warm friendly eyes. _Rawulf. Planet 9, food production and manufacturing – they're fast, they've got good senses, and they're excellent cooks. Weakness? Vitality – likelihood of succumbing to a disease_.

"What is it?" I ask, my eyes wide. He's holding some sort of platter with a lid over it. I push my plate away as he brings it over to the table and sets it down in front of me. "Bon appetit," he says, and I'm not even sure what that means, but it sounds beautiful. I lift the lid off of the plate, and I gasp as I see the chocolate wonder underneath it. I don't even take time to study it – I just grab a fork and start shoving it into my mouth. It's so rich and creamy – so moist! He sets a glass of milk down, too, and I start chugging as I eat the piece of cake. It's so ridiculously good! Ross is just left staring at me until one of the other chefs brings him something, a giant 'cinnamon bun'. It looks just as good as the cake. About half way through our individual desserts, Ross and I are caught looking at each other's. Without a word, we switch and start packing our mouths with the new dessert.

"This is so _good_," Ross says, taking a huge glug of his milk.

"Delicious!"

"You guys are acting like pigs," Massika says, flipping her black hair and turning in the other direction.

"Well I'm _sorry_ if we haven't eaten as extravagantly as you have," I say, shoving another bite of the cinnamon bun into my mouth. "_Some_ people just aren't as fortunate as you."

"You're lucky just to _be_ here," she growls, digging her nails into the table. "Not _everybody_ gets to come here, you know. You've only got seven chances."

"Because I'd _totally_ rather be here, stuffing my mouth with food as I wait to be killed, rather than back in Carvonova, teaching my little brother how to… train" I say, choosing my words carefully. Admitting that we hunt wouldn't be the smartest thing to do.

"Wouldn't you?" she asks, staring at me with those piercing, icy blue eyes of hers.

I drop my fork and let it clatter against the tin plate. Even Hanya looks up from her schedule planning for a few moments to see what's going on. "No," I say, pushing my chair back. "No, I wouldn't." I stand up and start walking towards the door. I hear someone else scoot their chair back, and I'm secretly hoping that it's Jobain, but I still keep walking. Once I'm in the hallway, I hear _Ross's_ voice behind me, telling me to wait up. "What are _you_ doing here?" I snap, scowling at him.

"I just… you looked like you needed someone."

"I don't need _anyone_," I tell him, and I continue on with my angered walking.

"Really? Because you're going the wrong way," he points out, and that stops me. I turn around to see what he means, and he's pointing in the opposite direction that I'm going. "Our courters are in this direction."

"Whatever," I reply flippantly. "I still don't need your help." I start walking towards him, but this time, I slow down. There's no reason for me to take my anger out on Ross – it's Massika I'm mad at. She's the one I want to rip into tiny little pieces to send back to Planet 3. "Look, I… I'm sorry, ok? I'm just…"

"Angry. Yeah, I know. You used to be angry at me a lot, remember?" I remember shoving his face in the sand and trying to make him eat it. I remember stealing his shoes and burying them in mud. I remember calling him short all the time because I used to be taller than him.

"Yeah. I remember," I say, taking a deep sigh.

"Do you realize that this is the first time you've ever apologized to me?" I think about that carefully – I used the analogy only a day or two ago; was I correct? Did I actually never apologize to him after the devastating months of torture I put him though? Knowing me, I probably didn't.

"I… I'm sorry about that, too."

"And I don't care anymore. See? We've both grown up." I glare at him again, but he keeps going. "Well, I know that I have, anyways. I used to be terrified that you'd come to my house and beat me in my sleep. I had to sleep in my brother's room for two months! But you know what? Eventually I realized that it didn't matter – none of what happened actually mattered. And eventually, I was able to get to sleep without having nightmares."

At first, I'm not sure how to respond to that. It's kind of poignant, in a way – this entire moment. Or ironic. Whichever term is right. Maybe neither. I don't know. I'm not good with those sorts of things. So I finally settle on saying, "I really used to scare you that much?" along with something I hope passes for a semi-friendly smile.

"I swear – I used to wet my bed every night." When I look up at him, he's smiling a genuine smile, and I can't help but give him one, too, no matter how stupid it seems.

"You know what, Ross?" I say as we reach our quarters. "You're alright."

"Thanks, Avoria," he says, pretending to open the doors for me. They slide open when you get close enough, so he really _couldn't_ open them, but the gesture was nice anyways.

"Avi," I say, following him into the room. "Call me Avi."

"Avi then," he says with a smile. His teeth are really white and straight – like perfect little pearls. Then again, we Elves were _designed_ with perfect teeth. "I'll see you in the morning?"

"Yes," I say, trying to calm the swift pitter-patter of my heart. _No. This is NOT the time for this._ "See you tomorrow." I go back to my room as quickly as I can, and then I pass out on my bed. Wasn't it only earlier today that I explicitly _told_ myself to stay away from Ross? What have I gotten myself _into_?

_I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I_

**Author's Note:**

**WOO. THAT was the longest chapter yet. I took me, like, all night to write this [not really… xD]! O.o I hope that the tiredness doesn't show… Tell me if it does! ;D You know the drill: fill me in on my mess-ups! Now… for the Thank You section! :D**

**Thank you, Twirlgirl821, for reviewing every chapter! xD Keep 'em comin'! **

**Drewsterhunger games, thank you so much! That really made me smile! **

**Bumblebee27, I'll *definitely* be sure to update as soon as possible! :D **

**Oh, and I almost forgot that I owe Missus Iggy! I based part of the second paragraph off of her story, ****Perfectly Bloody****. It's really good, and you should all check it out!**

**I appreciate EVERYBODY'S reviews, and you're all super amazing to be giving them to me! They make me feel really awesome! (: **

**Weird coincidence: I'm sure that by this chapter, you guys realize that Planet 3's escort is named Hanya… Well, apparently, my newfound biological father's girlfriend's daughter's name is Anya. O.o I just thought that was strange – it made me feel psychic! (Although I doubt Anya is a scary Leprechaun wannabe… xD)**

**P.S. – Most species mentioned in this story come from a game called Wizardry 8… I **_**probably**_** should have put this is the first Author's Note, but I forgot, so… I don't own the actual game – Sirtech does – and I have to credit a lot of the character building to them. If you want an idea on what the following species look like, go to Google Images and type in Wizardry 8 then the species: Felpurr (cat-like), Dracon (human dragon), Elf (although I like my description better… xD), Trynnie (it's a small furry thing), Faerie (…), RFS-81 (referred to as Droid in the story, but RFS-81 is like an overdone Droid…), Mook (big furry thing), Gnome (old dude), Rawulf (an ugly one… there are better ones!), Dwarf (big nose), Hobbit (that ones looks ugly, too…xD). There is **_**one**_** other species, but they're not in the game – they're Cyclops. I got the idea from RhiannaNekozawa. (: Thank you!**

**-QOTB-**


	5. Black, Blue, Purple, and Green

**QUEENOFTHEBUTTERFLIES**  
><span>GALACTIC GAMES<span>  
><em>BLACK, BLUE, PURPLE, AND GREEN<em>

* * *

><p>The next day, we got to eat breakfast in our courters so that we could watch the reapings from the previous day. I made sure to sit as far away from Ross as possible, just in case he thought my moment of weakness last night was <em>actual<em> friendship. Maybe if we were back on Planet 3, it would be ok, but not here. _Never_ here. There's too much at stake.

Most of the reapings – with the exceptions of planets 1, 2, and 4 – just involved a lot of crying and a lot of fear. Actually, I guess Planet 3 could be another exception this year. Ross and I looked almost _stoked_ to be up on that stage. We probably caused quite an uproar in the Capitol. Good. I hope that means that lots of sponsors will be heading our (my) way. The Capitol seems to be more interested in things that are different – and, well, Planet 3 was pretty much the _only_ planet that seemed to be different this year. Then again, they've never had Avoria Maydel as a tribute.

That sounded a little… cocky, which is weird, especially for me. But ever since the reaping, I've been feeling… different. Sometimes I'll feel really courageous, as if I'm ready to take the Games on with my bare hands and win. Other times, I'm terrified out of my mind because I know that I'm being sentenced to my death – which is the more _likely_ option of the two. Maybe I'm subconsciously straying from my terrified frame of mind because… well, because it _terrifies_ me, obviously. And most people – unless they have some sort of horror fetish – don't enjoy being terrified of death. Or so I would imagine.

We also did a little bit of training, too. I'm not sure if it's even _legal_ for tributes to train before the Capitol's allowed time, but… I'm not complaining. Well, actually, I am. Most of what was considered 'training' was just Massika throwing _very_ pointy knifes at me while I tried to dodge them. Since I've never had to do much dodging before, I expected myself to do worse than I did. I get away with three scrapes – two in my left arm, and one in my right leg. Considering that that was out of about a hundred, I think I have done pretty well for myself. Massika tells me that I'm wrong – that any one of those three blows could have been fatal had they hit me somewhere else. But she does offer to help bandage my wounds (to teach me how to 'properly' care for myself), so I guess all is good. Well, at least it _was_ before I remembered that practically my entire body is covered in make-up to hide my bruises. When she starts to wash off the cuts, she notices them immediately.

"Where did you get these?" she asks, looking at me suspiciously. She probably suspects that I have done some training of my own. I debate lying to her and telling her that I _have_ been training, but most likely, she'll just say that I haven't received very good training lessons, so I just decide to go with the truth.

"I fell out of a tree."

"How injured are you?" She looks pretty skeptical when she asks, but I don't know why.

"I'm not sure. It looks worse than it is," I assure her, which isn't entirely the truth. Actually, I've been feeling pretty crappy lately. Sometimes it's when I move – if I move the wrong way – but most of it happens if I accidentally hit something. If I hit my shoulder in the doorway, or my hip on the couch, or even my hand on the dresser … it's all the same – painful.

"Go take a shower," she commands, "Get all of this make-up off."

I want to say something, but I don't know what _to_ say, so I just comply. In reality, I'm just too tired to argue with her. I didn't get a very good sleep last night, thanks to Ross. _Why_ did he have to be so _nice_ to me? _Especially_ after I had been so inexplicably rude to him earlier in life? It just makes him seem more… sincere. _No_, I tell myself again, shaking my head as I walk towards my room. _He's not nice. He's… deceptive. Yes, that's it – deceptive_. It is so much easier to dislike him if I assume that he's being deceptive, so I decide to assume that from now on out. It's better than assuming that he's a crazy psycho killer – which he very well could be, as far as I know.

The shower is one of the most amazing experiences I've ever had. Considering that I've never actually _had_ a shower – back home, I got my bathes from the creek, the rain, and hot water tubs every now and then – it is _truly_ wonderful. It had taken me quite a while to figure it out – mostly because there was such a variety of shampoos, and conditioners, and body washes – but I eventually decided on the scent of coconut, because after all the samples it gave me, that one just seems to smell like heaven. When I step into the shower, it sprays me with this weird mist-like water from all directions. Then the ceiling starts to rain down on me with water that is in between warm and hot (but closer to hot). Some sort of something comes down and lands on my head, somehow getting all of my hair inside. It starts to gently massage my scalp, which is a little painful at first, but soon becomes very relaxing. I'm pretty sure that it's doing the shampoo/conditioner stuff, but I can't be positive. From the side walls, I get sprayed with a gentle soap that seems to make my skin feel a little slimy (but it smells _delicious_, so I don't really care). Then I automatically get sprayed off, and the shower stops. When I step out, it's like stepping into a burst of warm air that seems to light my insides. Hair driers are blowing my hair from a bunch of different directions so that when it dries, it just falls gracefully down my back. That just so happens to remind me that I need a haircut.

When I look in the mirror, though… I don't look _nearly_ as amazing as I feel. My stomach and back are twisted in ugly black and blue knots. The back of my arms and legs don't look so good, either. My face is a little banged up, but not too badly. Just a few small scrapes and bruises that should heal up in a few days. My lip has almost completely healed, which I guess is good.

I tie my hair back into its usual ponytail then then I throw on a simple pink bra and panties set under a tank top and some shorts that are probably meant to be pajamas. Oh well – none of the other clothing will give Massika easy access to my bruised body.

I walk out of my room and into the living area, where Massika is still sitting on the couch, watching some sort of television program (probably the Games…). "Ok… the make-up's gone." I say nervously, and she nearly gasps when she sees me. Well, who's to blame her – I look _horrible_.

"What did you…?" she asks briefly, before she remembers that I already told her.

"Tree…"

"You don't get bruised _this_ badly from falling out of a tree," she says, coming closer to examine me. "Let me see your back." I turn around and pull up my shirt, showing her the horrible twisted colors of my back. I couldn't see it all that well in the mirror. It's probably a mixture of black, blue, purple, and green – the colors of a _really_ bad bruise. "Turn around."

With the shirt tucked right under my bra, I turn back around to face her. She gasps again when she sees my stomach. "What… how did you…?"

"My brother landed on me."

"Doesn't it _hurt_?" Hmm. Something that passes for genuine concern – I'm shocked.

"Yeah… I guess. A little." Her eyes seem to widen at that, and suddenly she's calling for Hanya. I'm starting to freak out a bit, but I don't show it. Whatever she is doing, she probably has a good reason for it… or at least I _hope_ so. She seemed to be staring at me pretty intensely.

Hanya comes rushing into the room, and just like Massika, she gasps when she sees me. "What?" I ask nervously, trying to see to if I can catch a glimpse of any sort of hint in their eyes. "What's going on?" I feel squirmy.

"How high up were you?" Massika asks, walking around me and eyeing my wounds suspiciously – again. Then she turns to Hanya and says, "She fell out of a tree." Hanya just nods, but she doesn't look all that surprised. I would have mentioned that the falling wasn't _technically_ my fault, but I doubt that would have done any good.

"I dunno…" I say, trying my best to keep cool. I am _really_ freaking out – they look really, _really_ nervous about this whole thing, which is just making me more nervous. "About forty feet, I guess. Maybe more."

"_Forty feet!_" they shriek simultaneously. I guess I said something wrong.

"That should have _killed_ you!" Hanya says.

"Didn't you say that your brother landed on you?" Massika jumps in. Weird. She didn't seem to have any concern for my brother at the dinner table last night. And probably not any other night, either – not while she was sitting high and mighty in her damned Victor's House…

"Yeah. But he barely had a few bumps. Seriously, you two – what's going on?" I ask, finally pulling my shirt back down. They look at each other skeptically,

"We need to get you to a doctor," Hanya says, grabbing my wrist. She pulls me out of our quarters, and Massika follows close behind. I complain as they drag me down the hall, but they both keep telling me to shut up. We go down corridor after corridor, and when I am _almost_ sure that we're totally and completely lost, we enter a room, and there's a bright yellow Faerie – as in yellow skin, blonde hair, cat's eyes – in a long white doctor's jacket. The jacket almost reaches the floor, but she doesn't – she's flying. _Faeries. Planet 5, DNA manipulations and muttations – they're ridiculously smart, magic, and fast. Weakness? They have the strength of a five year old. And the height of one, too._

"Yes? How may I help you?" Her voice is high pitched, but not like Hanya's. When the Faerie talks, it sounds like she's singing a beautiful melody.

Without saying anything, Massika just pulled up my shirt. I jump back a little and glare at her. "A little warning next time, will you?" But she doesn't say anything. I watch as the Faerie doctor's face goes pail. "What?"

"We need to get you on the operating table – fast."

**Author's Note:**

**AAAAHHH. I originally wrote this story in past tense, but then I decided to write it in present tense instead, so I had to go back and change all the verbs! O.o Sorry if there are any mess-ups! Correct me! And sorry for the cliff hanger! xD …wait, no, I'm **_**not**_** sorry about that one! **

**ChaosUmbrella and Twirlgirl821 – you guys are freakin' AWESOME(: And I especially find ChaosUmbrella's review for chapter four to be ADORABLE! I just loved it! Thank you so much! **

**Again, I'm writing this at… oh, just all night… it's not seven. O.o But I also worked on other stuff, too, so… :D I should really try writing at a **_**normal**_** time, but… When I wake up, I read ****Dracula**** (forced xD), do some assignments, play my sax, and then I pretty much **_**try**_** to write, but I need complete and total silence! :O So you can imagine how difficult this must be for me. I can't even put on **_**South Park**_** and write! *the torture***

**This chapter **_**probably**_** would have been finished earlier (no guarantee!), but I spent the night at a friend's house, and we spent most of the time playing my **_**Wizardry 8**_** game and watching the **_**Austin Powers**_** movies! :3 Yay for us! (…I think that was a partial copycat of ChaosUmbrella's review… xD Sorry!) **

**P.S – I'm trying to make sure that chapters come frequently (but I don't want to hurry them, so, for the sixth time now, **_**please**_** point out any and all mistakes you see! :D), but around the 28****th ****there might be a few days where I don't upload because that's my dad's birthday, and the 30****th**** is mine, and I'm having a slumber party, so… I'll probably be busy. But I will **_**try**_** to have one up on the 29****th****, and maybe another one on July 2****nd****-3****rd ****. If not the 29****th****, then hopefully the 27****th****. (: Thanks for understanding! **

**P.S.S – I will be having marching band camp in July. That week is going to be HELL (but, like, fun hell… xD). I will have to leave around nine A.M. and come home around ten P.M. All the time in between is spent in the **_**July**_** sun (United States, for those of you who have winter in July!) **_**marching**_**. So. From July 18****th****-22****nd**** is probably going to be a little iffy as well. I'm going to need all the sleep I can get. :3 And bug spray… **_**lots**_** of bug spray. :D **

**P.S.S.S – JUST A LITTLE GAME! Name the hidden song title in this story! (Ok, there could be **_**lots**_**, but I accidentally planted one in here and realized it, so… if you find it, I'll let you submit your own tribute for this story! Note, this is a **_**one**_** time offer! So if you want a crazy alien tribute, find my weird little song title! xD) Hint: Talking Heads **

**I say… these notes are getting longer and longer! O.o 'Till next time! **

**-QOTB-**


	6. The Berries or the Bruises

**QUEENOFTHEBUTTERFLIES**  
><span>GALACTIC GAMES<span>  
><em>THE BERRIES OR THE BRUISES<em>

* * *

><p>When I finally regain my consciousness, everything is a little fuzzy. It's not too bad – just a few little things. I can't tell if the ceiling is white or grey. I don't know if I have five fingers or six. I can't remember if my name is Avi or Brick.<p>

A few minutes later, though, it all becomes clear. Well, my _vision_ does, anyways. I see everyone standing over me – Hanya, Massika, Jobain, and Ross – and they're all staring at me. I hear vague bits and pieces of sentences, but not enough to place them into anything coherent. I just keep blinking at them, trying to make the lights that shine behind them dim down just a little bit.

"_She's awake_."

Well. _There_'s something that makes sense. I try to nod, but my head just rolls off to the side. Is this what it feels like to be drunk?

"_She's going to be out of it…_" It's the Faerie lady's voice! It really does sound like music… almost like a lullaby… She talks a little bit more, but now I'm too tired to pay any attention to what she has to say. I close my eyes and slip back into dreamland…

This time when I wake up, thinks are much clearer. I can see the face of the Faerie doctor floating above me, and I can even make out the details. She's got a tiny nose and long eyelashes. Her eyes are a little green at the corners – but not an ugly green. In fact, it's actually like the green of the oceans on Panem…

"How are you feeling?" she asks, looking down at something that looks oddly similar to Hanya's schedule keeper.

I suck in a deep breath and try to think about that. "You know… I don't know."

She cracks a smile and lets out a small laugh. Then she scribbles something down on the small device and floats down onto the corner of my bed. "I'm sure you'd like to know what's happened." I nod, feeling like I'd mess up anything I try to say. "Good then. Well. You remember telling Massika about how you fell out of a tree? An impressive forty feet?" I continue nodding, unsure of where this is going. Obviously, I've been critically injured in some way I didn't even _know_ about. "It's… it's a little difficult to explain. Do you understand how adrenaline works in humans?" I nod. "Well, for Elves, it's quite… different. When you fell, you fractured a few of your ribs, and they punctured some of your vital organs."

"That's… not good…" I say, when what I'm really thinking is, "_How the hell did I survive that?"_

"No. No it's not. But don't worry – I've got you all patched up now. Anyways… Elves can go on adrenaline for days – even weeks, sometimes, if they need to. It's why most Elves last decently long in the Games. That is, unless they're… well… Anyways," she says, trying to correct herself again. She doesn't really look like she wants to talk about the Games, but I don't question it. For now. "It's _your_ body's way of trying to recuperate on its own – sort of like a natural healing. It's something that only Elves can do. The heavy bruises are a sign of that – not a sign of your falling. Well, of course, _some_ of them are, but Elves really aren't prone to bruise very easily. Not as easily as, say, Faeries. We bruise a little easier than humans. But for you, the bruises are just there to say that you've been banged up pretty badly, and to warn you not to move around so much."

I think back to my training session with Massika. Is that why she had been so worried? Because I had been doing a lot of moving around that could potentially kill me? Then again, throwing _knives_ at me can also potentially kill me. But I guess she was prepared for that one. "So… how did you fix it?"

She smiles. This is probably a topic that she knows a lot about. "It wasn't all that complicated, really. Using lasers, my team and I were able to patch up your ribs and stitch up your organs. You've been out for about a day now… You'll only be out of order for the next day or two – which will give you plenty of time for training and whatnot." She looks a little sad as she says it, and I just finally have to ask her.

"Did you loose someone in the Games?" She looks shocked for a moment – probably because I'm being so straightforward with a question that came from out of the blue – but then she quickly recovers and nods.

"My son Tyl a few years back," she says hesitantly. I try to think back to the Games I watched when Mother was sleeping. Do I remember a Tyl? One that looked like her? I take a look at her again, and it all comes flooding back to me. I _do_ remember a Tyl. He made it into the top eight, but then he was caught, tortured, and killed by the Career pack. It must have been horrible for her to watch that – the Capitol would have been _forcing_ all of Planet 5 to watch. They always do when one of your own is about to be killed. There were probably guards around her house. "And this year, my daughter Nakine is in the Games."

"That must be…" I start, but I can't even finish. I don't _know_ what it must be like – to loose a child to these damn Games and then have to send in another one. "Devastating."

She nods, but she doesn't say anymore. We sit in silence for a few minutes, but then someone walks into the office, and she has to tend to them. "Wait!" I say, reaching out for her even though I can't touch her. She turns back to me, her thin eyebrows perched high on her forehead. "What's your name?"

"Falah," she says with a confident nod. "Falah Trindle."

The next day is spent mostly on bed rest. Luckily for me, though, Falah has a portable computer that I can borrow. This way, I can continue my research on my competitors… _Felpurr. Planet 1, Luxury items – good at climbing and clawing; high stamina. Weakness? Their paws prevent them from using weapons_. That's about as far as I get before Ross comes in to see me. The first thing I do is _smile_. Then I immediately frown _because_ I smiled. I hope that makes it better.

"Hey, Avi…" he says, entering the room slowly. He's probably afraid that I'm going to bite his head off – which I most likely will… if given the opportunity. "I just came to see if you were feeling any better…"

Damn him. "Um… yeah, great, fine," I answer. I think I used to many monosyllable words. I shrug. "Whatever." _That's_ better. Not.

"We've only got about one more day on the ship," he says. He's standing rather rigidly, and if he was anyone else, I probably would have offered him a seat. "And Massika said that you should spend tomorrow getting your strength up and all. You know, for the Games…"

"Yeah," I say, not really bothering to look up from my computer. Hopefully he'll go away soon. "I got that."

"Ok, um… alright, I guess. I'll see you tomorrow?" He seems more than just a little flustered, but he doesn't seem exactly shy. It's like… he's not _confirming_ any of this – he's just stating it.

"Yup."

"Uh… bye."

"Bye." I don't watch him as he leaves – it would just make me feel guilty later. Actually, I'm probably going to feel guilty no matter _what_ I do, but this way, at least I don't have to see his face.

"Who was that?" Falah asks, coming back into the room to check on me. "He was kind of cute."

"Yeah. Maybe on _your_ planet." She laughs and checks a few of the various monitors that are hooked up to me. They all say different things, and since I don't know what any of them mean, I haven't really bothered to pay any attention to them. "So… how am I doing today?"

"Excellent," she says, scribbling some things down. "I should be able to release you tomorrow!"

As I've heard. I smile and we make some more pleasant chitchat, but since yesterday, we haven't really talked much about anything other than my health. Maybe that's for the best, just like kind of ignoring Ross is probably for the best, too. As long as he doesn't go all vengeful and try to kill me, I think I'll be good.

One of the nurses – just an average human – comes in just as Falah leaves and starts to check some other monitors. "So," she says, making her way to a white monitor with blue and green zigzagged lines on the screen. "Are you excited about this year's Quarter Quell?"

_Quarter Quell!_ I had _completely_ forgotten about it! It is, after all, the _one thousandth_ Hunger Games… "What are the changes this year?"

She immediately jumps on my question, as if she was looking for the opportunity to discuss the Games. "Oh, it's going to be quite different, seeing as it _is_ a millennium and all! I've _heard_ that the actual arena isn't even on Panem! It's on Panem's _moon_ – Lanoria! Well, not the _entire_ moon – just a part of it. I don't know what part, though. The Capitol is keeping _that_ information under lock and key. I also heard that there are going to be _two_ Cornucopias! Obviously there's going to be the one at the start of the Games, but there's going to be a _second_ one somewhere in the arena!" She seems really happy about this for some reason – then again, she _is_ from Panem. There's no reason she _wouldn't_ be excited – it's a planet full of spoiled brats that enjoy watching murderous children on television. Harsh.

"That's… interesting," I say, mostly because I don't know what _to_ say. They're going to fill us in on all the important things we need to know before we go into the arena. I'm sure that there's probably a lot of other things the Capitol hasn't leaked yet. They usually like to keep most of the surprises for Quarter Quells hidden. "Wait," I say as she's about to leave. I remember that Massika said something about getting use to the transporters. "Do you know about anything involving transporters?"

"Oh! That! I almost forgot! Well, you see, there are going to be transporters spread throughout the arena. But they're all going to be _camouflaged_. And if you step on one, it takes you to any other random transporter pad! You never _know_ where you're going to end up!"

Dead. _That's_ where I'm going to end up. "One more thing… how do you _know_ all of this?" I ask, because I really _do_ want to know. We've never heard anything about this. Maybe it's just a Panem/Capitol thing.

"It's common knowledge on Panem!" Yep. And with that, the giddy nurse slips out of the room. _Finally_.

The rest of the day is pretty much spent doing research. Since the Capitol controls in internet, there's really not much to do. There's a page for every species, and there's a _long_ list of the tributes from each planet. The victor's names are golden. You can click on them to read their stories, about their lives, how they survived. Each victor is entitled to give their version of how the Games went, and then the Capitol reads through it, changes anything they don't like, and posts it. Also next to each victor's name is the televised Games so that, if you want to, you can watch.

I mostly look at the victims, though, and read about how they died. I don't care for all the details the Capitol puts into it – I just want the cause of death. Starvation? Bludgeon? Bow and arrows? I want to find a good point of weakness for each species that I can take advantage of it.

I make sure to go through the Elves, too, to see how we fair in death. There have _definitely_ been a lot of death. We have the smallest amount of victors out of all of the districts – a measly little five. Most other planets are at _least_ somewhere in the twenties as far as victors go. The career planets are very somewhere in the fifties and sixties. And what have we got? Five.

Out of all the Elven tributes I look at, only a handful didn't survive the bloodbath. Yet _another_ handful didn't make it to the top eight. I think that's why Panem still keeps us around – because we almost _always_ have a spot in the top eight. From then on out, most of the Elves – scratch that, _all_ of the Elves – were killed at the hands of another tribute. There was no starvation, no drowning, no falling out of a tree and getting a multitude of bruises… They didn't just _die_ – they were all _killed_. _That_'s reassuring.

After that, I'm pretty tired from doing nothing all day, so I just decide to go to sleep. When I wake up, Massika is sitting in one of the chairs next to my bed. I'm a _little_ surprised to see her, but not really. I kind of figured that she'd be around sooner or later. "Hi."

"You're awake," she says. Her voice still has that metallic coolness that it always has. She kind of reminds me of the Borg – the people who _were_ on Planet 13 until they got to full of themselves and thought that they could take over Panem _and_ all twelve of the other planets. The closest thing we have to them _now_ are the Droids.

"Yeah. What time is it?"

"It's a little after eight. In the morning."

"Oh," I say, taking the opportunity to sit up in my bed. It's more comfortable. "Are we going to be training soon?"

"Yes."

I feel more than just a little awkward sitting here with her. I've only had two conversations with her. One involved a bunch of yelling, and the other involved surgery, so I'm not really sure what to expect from this. "So, um… what are you doing here?" I ask, trying to make it sound friendly, but failing miserably.

She seems a little taken back by the question, but it doesn't show in her voice. "I… I just came to see if you were… alright."

"Why? You don't seem to like me very much."

"It doesn't _matter_ if I _like_ you," she snaps, but I can see that she's trying to cool herself down, so I let it go. I don't want to cause more trouble with her than I already have. "I still have to train you, and part of that… Part of that should have been knowing that you were hurt."

I'm touched. "Massika… I didn't _tell_ you. And I was _covered_ in make-up. There was know way for you _to_ know."

"That doesn't matter!" she yells, jumping up from the chair. "I should have taken some sort of precaution! But I _didn't_. From the time you stepped onto that stage, I was _so_ sure that you were going to be a winner, and I didn't even _bother_ to think that there might be something wrong with you…" I'm not sure whether to be flattered or insulted by that last statement.

She seems to be having some sort of emotional deal with this, so I just ask her, "What's going on?"

She sits back down and crosses her legs. She bites her lip, and she brings her hand up to her chin. Sighing, she finally says, "It was the nine hundred ninety fifth Hunger Games. There were six of us left. I was allied with a gnome girl named Keilia. She was in charge of hunting. I was in charge of gathering. But the berries I gathered… they weren't… they weren't the right kind. She had an allergic reaction, and she _died_. Because I wasn't careful enough to pick the right damn berries."

I'm quiet. What can I say to that? _I_ know that there's no way she could have known about the berries or the bruises, but no matter what I say, I doubt she's going to believe me… "_I'm_ not dead."

"But you _could_ have been. And _that's_ the point."

We sit in silence for a few minutes until Falah comes in. She does the final check-up on the machines, and then she unhooks me. She tells me that I still have to be a little careful in training for the next few days, but that by next week when the Games start, I should be ready to hit them with full voice. She even wishes me luck.

As we're leaving, she touches my upper arm, and I turn back to see what she needs. "Would you mind – if it's not too much trouble – telling Nakine that I love her? I understand if you don't want to, but –"

I smile at her. "It's the least I can do, Falah. Especially after everything you've done for me."

She blushes. "I… thank you, Avoria. This really means a lot to me."

I think it means a lot to _me_, too.

_I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I_

**Author's Note:**

**Bumblebee27 – Sorry I lied! It **_**would**_** have been up yesterday, but my mother took me shopping for birthday stuff. :3 And then I feel asleep. xD I **_**love**_** your review! It makes me smile!  
>Twirlgirl821 – Aha. It's the <strong>_**only**_** Talking Heads song that I know! And thanks again for the Lanoria idea! I owe you! (: **

**Oh, and the Borg are from **_**Star Trek**_**. (: Yeah, me and my awesome nerdy prowess… xD**

**Alright! So here we are! Chapter six! My dad is telling me that I actually need to start **_**sleeping**_** during the night… Nah… (: If you notice any mistakes, **_**please**_** tell me! I was jacked up three cups of coffee when I wrote most of this! The rest was written when I was sleep deprived **_**without**_** coffee. xD **

**BTW… I loaned a friend my copy of ****The Hunger Games****, and now I can't remember the order of things! I got as far as the chariot. Can someone – in a review or a message – remind me how everything goes until the arena? At worst, I'll just go find it in someone's story, but… Try to be detailed! Like who should they meet, what should they be doing… Oh, and when the anthem plays, if you can! xD **

**Also… that Talking Heads thing? That's going to be open until I get to the arena. (: **

**-QOTB-**


	7. My God, You're Hairy

**QUEENOFTHEBUTTERFLIES**  
><span>GALACTIC GAMES<span>  
><em>MY GOD, YOU'RE HAIRY<em>

* * *

><p>Oh, goodness… I'm beyond nervous. I'm sitting here in the chariot, and we're about to enter the stadium… Ross is sitting next to be, and he doesn't seem to be doing any better. He looks up at me nervously, and I just try to smile back. I am <em>far<em> more nervous than I was during the reaping. This time, I _know_ that I'm going to be in the spotlight. I _know_ that I'm going to be watching by billions of people from _thirteen_ different planets – if you include Panem.

"Are you ready?" Ross asks, giving me another nervous smile.

"I… no. Not in the least."

"It's ok," he says, offering me his hand. "Neither am I." I take his hand and give it a quick squeeze, but that's all I'm going to allow myself. Unfortunately, Yamynne (my stylist), sees it and gives me a thumbs up. Something tells me that she isn't as ready to let go as I am… I take a deep breath as we head into the stadium. I'm not ready for what's going to happen…

But before I get ahead of myself, though, I should probably start with the beginning of yesterday, which went by rather quickly compared to today. We had to wake up _super_ early so that Hanya could make sure that we were the first ones to get to the transporting station… I had to go through that weird tingly feeling again, but it transported us right to the Training Center, where we would be staying for the majority of the time. We got the _entire_ third floor to ourselves, so that was pretty cool. We each ended up getting our own room! Well, Hanya said that _just_ to be safe, Ross and Jobain would be on the _other_ side of the floor from Massika and I, and she would be in the middle. I don't know why – it's not like I was planning to sneak into Ross's room and do unspeakable things in the middle of the night.

Either way, I just kind of ignored Hanya's talking and went to my 'designated' room. It was just like the one on the ship, except that it was _bigger_, and I had it all to _myself_. There was a living area with fancy – and very comfortable – couches, a _huge_ television, a coffee table… And I had my own kitchen! There wasn't any food in any of the pantries or the fridge, but it was still nice. The bedroom was just… _wow_. The bed was in the middle of the room, and it wasn't even on the _ground_! It was _floating_. So, naturally, the first thing I did was test it… by poking it. It didn't budge. So I pressed down with my hand, and it still didn't move. I didn't want to press my luck with the magic bed, so I just let it be and examined the rest of the room. There was another television in it (along with a bunch of strange devices with words like 'Xbox' and 'Wii' – most likely popular on Panem), a large dresser full of more formal-like clothing, and another – better – desk and computer set. So, all and all, it was just an upgrade.

I didn't get to spend too long in my new room because Massika came in and asked if I was up for any training. I told her that I was definitely ready to do _something_, so we cleared the living room by moving the furniture back against the walls. "We don't know what kind of field you'll be on," she clarified, probably just as a warning.

"One of the nurses told me that the arena is on Lanoria."

"It doesn't make a difference _where_ it is," she said, putting her hands on her hips, "there are still lots of different environments you could be placed in. So… do you have any weapons skills?"

It took me a moment to realize what she was asking, but then I said, "Um… yeah. Kind of… I can use a dagger pretty well. And shuriken… ninja stars… whatever."

"Anything else? _Any_ weapons skills you have could be important."

I closed my eyes and tried to think. Were there any other weapons I could use well…? "I… I used a sling a few times. I mean, I can hit a target, if that's what you want to know, but I'm probably a little rusty… and knives. Well, I can't throw them like _you_ did, but I'm not terrible… and I've got a little bit of training with a spear."

"Is that all?"

Is that _all_? I found my skills to be fairly impressive. "Um… yeah. I think so." I bit my lip and twisted my hair around my finger. It was a nervous habit, but it didn't hurt anything, so why break it?

"Alright. When you begin your _actual_ training, it's going to be in this building. You're going to have a few days to go in and train with the other tributes, and there are going to be all sorts of stations that you can go to. First and foremost, since you're good with daggers and ninja stars, don't go to any station that might have them. Showing off is useless until you get into the arena. Next, spend only a few minutes sharpening up your sling and spear skills. There's a better chance that you'll find those in the arena. And thirdly… do you know anything about berries and herbs?"

More thought. Yay. "A little… I mean, I know which berries are for food and which ones are for medicine… But I don't know what the medicinal ones do or anything… just that it's better to save them than to eat them." More or less, that described my medical experience perfectly.

"Ok. Spend some time learning that… you'll need it. You also might want to look into snares, camouflage, agility… things like that. Spend enough time with everything to know what you're doing, then move on. You don't need to do anything extravagant – the basics will suffice."

"Mmm… alright. So what are we going to do _now_?" I asked.

"Now…? Now we are going to do some training in hand to hand combat. Do you know anything about it?" She pulled hair bow off of her wrist and tied back her black hair with it. Then she popped her knuckles and stretched her shoulders some.

"Um… that it's hand to hand?" I said weakly. She just kind of glared at me, so I shut up (for the umpteenth time since this entire thing started…). I asked her if I could change into some decent grappling clothing, and she let me. It took awhile to find something that wasn't a dress, but I just had to settle for pajama shorts again. Oh, and the matching top. I pulled my hair back into a pony tail, and then I went back into the living room.

I got a little banged up, but not too much. Massika didn't want be to be injured before the chariot ride – not that the stylists couldn't fix it or anything, I'm sure. She mostly just taught me punches, kicks, and blocks… along with a bunch of different formations and combinations on how to use them. Knife hand, side kick, spinning back fist… All sorts of interesting stuff like that. We spent _hours_ working on that, but surprisingly, I wasn't really tired afterward. I mean, I was sweaty and all, but I was actually pretty invigorated, too. Massika even told me that I had a really talent for martial arts, which I appreciated. I think that it was the first _nice_ thing she said to me.

After the intense training session, I took a shower – still strange – and then got ready for dinner. It was still pretty hard to see all of the food laid out on the table, and I couldn't help but let my mind wander back to Brick and my mother… Were they doing ok? Getting enough food? How was Brick? His spear training? I didn't really have anyone to continue his spear lessons with him, but maybe Dad found someone… Thinking about Dad made me pretty sad, too. He was probably watching the television at the factory when he heard my name get called in the reaping… He wouldn't have been able to make it back to Carvonova to see me off, anyways. There was just no way… I still feel bad about never getting to say goodbye to him.

After another amazing dinner, Hanya told us all to be outside of her door in half an hour. I'm not sure what everyone else did for that half-hour, but I pretty much just lounged around. It was probably the last 'easy' day I'd ever have. I guess it was a good thing that Hanya got us here a day early. Even if she _still_ resembles a maniacal leprechaun. Doesn't ever ever get tired of green…?

When I went to Hanya's room, the only other person standing in the hallway was Ross. Of course. Did I really expect anything less? For the most part, he just tried to initiate conversations with questions, and I gave him abrupt one word answers. Then Jobain came, and a few minutes later, Massika. They started talking about _something_ – one of those television devices I think – and then Hanya came out and gave us our schedule. We were to start off the next day with our individual prep teams, and then slowly move on to our stylists. By the time they got done, we were going to be on our way to the chariot. I didn't know how long it took to beautify someone, but an _entire_ day seemed to be quite a while… The day after the chariot, we'd begin our official training. Fun, fun, fun…

So after that little meeting, I went to bed. Getting to sleep wasn't easy, and once I _finally_ felt as if it had been accomplished, Massika was waking me up and telling me that I needed to get ready. She told me to wear some nothing clothing since I would just be taking them off anyways. Despite the fact of it sounding a little creepy, I went along with it. I wore a simple orange dress, but I left the boots in the room because I didn't want to have to leave them with my stylist. I opted for a pair of brown leather sandals instead. We hurried off to breakfast – which was eaten rather quickly – and then Ross and I got transported. _Again_. After the third time… well, it was _still_ pretty strange. It hadn't gotten much better.

I'm not entirely sure how to explain everything that happened next. I just know that I reappeared in a chair, and there were three brightly colored people around me. There was a Gnome (_Gnome. Planet 8, textiles. Gnomes are known for their hunting and gathering skills, also for their ability to remain completely still. Weakness? Completely paralyzed when afraid)_ woman named Walizza, who was short in statue (like all Gnomes – a little shorter than Elves), and she had a strong jaw. Her skin was a very pale shade of blue, and her eyes twinkled golden. She had her bright magenta hair up in a bun, and pieces were falling in front of her face. There was an Elven man named Jabriik. His skin tone was fairly normal (albeit being a little too tan for an Elf…), but his hair was bright crimson. He was by far the tallest one of the three. And lastly, there was a human woman named Serincia. She had this _dark_ orange skin that was oddly smooth. Her eyes were a deep violet, and her hair was in _very_ curly blonde ringlets that only went down to her shoulders.

They all talked over me for a few minutes before Serincia told me to strip down to my unmentionables. I was uncomfortable with the idea, so I told her so, but she just glared at me and said – in a very annoyed tone – that she couldn't get anything done unless I was naked. I ended up removing all of my clothing.

They all examined me for a few minutes, and then Jabriik said something about some sort of wax, and he rushed off to one of the thousands of counters in the room and grabbed a large jar of something. At the same time, Walizza ran to get these large white fabric strips. Serincia commanded be to stand on some sort of large blue circle, and when I did, I suddenly started to float. It wasn't anything epic – just a few inches off the ground. My arms and legs spread out (which was _very_ uncomfortable) until I looked like an Elven star, and I realized that I couldn't move. This dull blue glow was shining on me, and it was more than just a little eerie.

Suddenly my entire body felt very moist, and I saw Serincia holding up this giant sponge. Before I could ask her what she was going to do with it, Walizza asked me if I had a preferred scent. I immediately answered coconut, and then she hurried off to get something. "What's going on?" I asked.

"We have to give you a bath," Serincia said. Her tone was weird – one of those _Capitol_ tones, no doubt – but she didn't sound exactly mean. She sounded like she was talking in an 'it just _is_' sort of way. It reminded me a little of Massika. "We're going to rub you down the old fashion way because it gets dirt off more effectively than the sonic showers." Sonic shower? Was _that_ the thing in my courters?

Walizza came back with some sort of bottle, and she squirted whatever it was onto this pink fluffy thing. When she saw my questioning look, she giggled and said, "It's a luffa!" Like I knew what that was. But I didn't ask. I just let her rub the luffa all over me – despite _how_ awkward it felt – and then Serincia washed it off with a really rough sponge. She was rubbing me really hard (and I'm sure that most of my experiences are sounding _very_ dirty), and I wanted to ask her to stop, but I just bit my lip and waited. When she was done with me, my skin was probably going to be _very_ red.

After about two or three layers of skin later, they were done. I felt relieved until Jabriik started to put this hot honey-like stuff on my toes. Then he put the white fabric strips on it, and yanked it off. It _hurt_. "Ow! What are you _doing_?" I asked. I had the urge to pull me feet away, but I couldn't move. That was probably why this thing had been installed…

"Relax," he said in a strange voice that sounded… British, I think…? I'm not entirely familiar with all of Panem's… eccentricities. "I'm just waxing you! My _God_, you're hairy!"

"Thanks…"

And while he went about shaving _every_ part of my body – and I do mean _every_ part, Walizza started to trim my nails up, and Serincia began washing my hair. I just stood there – or floated… whatever – and tried not to say anything. The waxing was really starting to hurt, but afterwards, it just felt all tingly. When Jabriik was done, he put some lotion on _everything_ – I still have trouble getting over the places people wax – and it felt a whole lot better. Walizza had moved onto decorating my toenails (I would have looked to see my fingernails, but being frozen in place didn't really help with that…).

"Dear, are you going to mind if I chop off some of these beautiful locks?" Serincia asked me in a _much_ nicer tone than she had talked to me in earlier.

"It depends. Are you going to make it look good?"

She let out a laugh. "I make _everything_ look good." I wanted so say something about her orange skin, but we were engaged in 'playful banter', and I didn't really want to ruin it. Especially since she was the one holding the scissors. She combed back my hair some, and then I heard the snipping start. I couldn't be sure what she was doing, and I couldn't even watch my hair fall to the ground. But as it grew shorter, it started falling back around my face, and I gasped.

When she was done, Walizza also happened to be finished with my nails, and Jabriik was putting some sort of mask on my face. The two women started to take my measurements. Serincia made a comment on my lack of… a chest, and she offered to fix that for me. "Wouldn't that just slow me down? You know… the boobs and all?"

"Not at all. Not once you get used to them anyways. And face it darling. This might be the _only_ chance you have to grow them."

After releasing some inner rage, I told her that while it was a nice offer (which it wasn't), I'd rather just grow them out myself. She said that I'd probably regret that, and I figured that she was right. In the arena, I'll probably be thinking, _'Why the hell didn't I do it? What did I have to lose?_' But still… the idea was more than just a little uncomfortable.

"Well if you change your mind," she said, "you know where to come." And unfortunately, I did know where to go.

Jabriik washed the green mask thing off of my face, and then he sent Walizza to deliver the measurements to someone, and he and Serincia stayed to work on my make-up. Somehow they got my eyes to close, but with them touching my face every two seconds, I couldn't relax. I had no idea what they were putting on because none of it felt remotely similar to the make-up I used. When they were done, my eyes opened, and they smiled at their work.

"I think she's ready," Jabriik said, pressing some sort of button on one of the walls. I began to lower, and when my feet hit the ground, I almost fell. Thankfully, Serincia was prepared for this, and she caught me.

"It happens to everyone, dear," she said with a laugh.

Walizza came running back into the room, and there was the click of heels following her. "Yamynne's here!" she said excitedly, her voice trilling several octaves higher than she needed it to. "Yamynne's ready for her!"

"Who's Yamynne?" I asked, but my question was shortly answered when a woman – obviously Felpurr – with slick white fur entered the room. Her ears were like triangles that were perfectly proportioned to the shape of her sleek, cat-like head. She had a very interesting set of claws on her – as long and thin as needles – and wore a simple red tunic and matching red heels. She actually looked pretty decent compared to the other three. At least white was a _natural_ fur color for the Felpurrs.

"Is this the girl?" she asked, walking over to be carefully to inspect. If I used irony right, than it was ironic that after hours of waxing and tweezing, my mentor was _far_ hairier than I was.

The others just nodded, and then Yamynne smiled. "You're very pretty."

"Thank… you?" I said, although it came out as more of a question. She laughed and placed her paw on my shoulder. She didn't even scratch me with her claws – which I have to admit, was kind of impressive. If _I_ had bad boys like those, I _know_ that I'd constantly be scratching people – both accidentally and on purpose.

"We still have a lot of work to do…" she said, pacing away from me. "We want you to be completely unforgettable." She suddenly did an about-face and was facing me again. "Did you ever learn about the seventy-forth Hunger Games? Katniss, the girl who was on fire?"

"Of course," I nodded, glad that for once, I knew what I was talking about. "She was the most famous victor in history. She and Peeta. Star-crossed lovers."

"Excellent," she said. I wasn't sure what to think of her – her voice kept dipping between happy and creepy. It was a little… well, creepy, for the most part. "It was very unfortunate that she had that… accident." Even though it _wasn't_ an accident. Everybody knew it – but for the sake of the Capitol, we all pretended that we didn't. Uproars had started shortly after Katniss's Victory Tour, and so President Snow – leader at that time – decided that _something_ had to be done. In retrospect, it was _kind_ of an accident. He meant to kill Peeta. But Katniss got in the way of that, and after she died, Peeta… Well, he… "And since then, no other stylist has ever even _tried_ something so outlandish! Those poor, poor souls…"

"So… um… what do you have in mind, exactly?" I asked. I hoped that whatever it was involved clothing. I was starting to get a chill.

She snapped her fingers, and all three members of the prep team ran off. "You see… Planet 3 is all for electronics and firearms, is it not?"

"It is."

"Hmm. We're going for more of an electric vibe, if you will." As the prep team ran back into the room with a garment back, Yamynne continued her speech. "The basic idea behind electricity is the constant flowing of power…" They unzipped the bag as she talked, and at first, I was surprised. It didn't look as amazing as I thought it would – no where close. It was just a simple black dress with a modest neckline and three-quarter sleeves.

"Um…? Is _this_ is?"

"I haven't finished," she said. "But that power has to come from somewhere. Which is where _this_ dress comes in. Tell me, are you comfortable with lightening?"

I raised a newly tweezed eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because you'd better be."

_I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I_

**Author's Note:**

**Eh… this chapter doesn't feel **_**normal**_** for some reason. Tell me if I'm right? :3 **

**Oh, and I just found out the **_**weirdest**_** (but coolest) thing **_**ever**_**. My **_**dad**_** has a ring that passes through the men in our family! And he got it from **_**his**_** dad! I didn't even **_**know**_** that when I made up Avi's Grampa's ring! How incredibly cool is that? :3 My nephew, as the only male grandson (since I only have sisters!), will probably be getting it! **

**I can't remember if I said anything about Avi and medicine in any previous chapters… so I'm just going to pretend that she's semi-decent with it. :D Oh, and I take martial arts (Tae Kwon Do), so I figured that it would be cool to throw some of our moves, and techniques, and stuff in here… xD **

**Ehh… being the girl I am (no judging!), I must be all waxed, and shaved, and tweezed for my birthday… *shivers* This chapter is a pretty good reminder that I need to find my tweezers before it's too late! xD Maybe I'll just convince my mom to take me to get my eyebrows waxed… "But **_**Mom!**_** This is an **_**emergency!**_**"**

"**You are a **_**spoiled**_** child."**

"**Whose fault is that?" *glare* "Does that mean yes?" xD Aha, how I love my mother… **

**Twirlgirl821 – Yeah! Stupid human adrenaline… xD  
>ChaosUmbrella – Thanks for the birthday wishes! I'm super excited! ONE MORE DAY! :D <strong>

**Blah, blah, I make mistakes, blah blah, fix them(: Oh, and… "My **_**God**_**, you're hairy!" xD I just love that… :D **

**-QOTB-**


	8. Pretended to be Offended

**QUEENOFTHEBUTTERFLIES**  
><span>GALACTIC GAMES<span>  
><em>PRETENDED TO BE OFFENDED<em>

* * *

><p>Ross and I are sitting in a chariot, trying our best not to hyperventilate. In my case, I'm mostly just afraid of the crowd. I know that from my reaping performance, they'll probably like me, but 'probably' isn't something that I can rely on. I think that Ross is worried about Yamynne's lightening idea, but oddly enough, I seemed pretty comfortable with it. With special permission from the Gamemakers, Yamynne was able to rig some of the holographic projection lights (which typically just project fake trees, and bushes, and whatnot so that the stadium appears more beautiful than it really is). Our costumes are also rigged, so that when the holographic lightening hits us, our outfits will light up in a furry of techno-green wires. Some of them will be zooming around on our clothing, while other will be quite <em>literally<em> zooming around _us_ (as part of the holographic projection).

I'm quite sure that a normal person would be worried about holographic lightening. But me? Not so much. I'm just worried that I'm going to do something wrong. It's happened before – one misstep, and suddenly you lose all of your sponsors. I always felt sorry for those kids, but I couldn't help thinking, '_Well. Just do what you have to do to get the sponsors. Or die. Your choice_.' It seemed so _easy_ to think that. The phrase, "easier said than done," comes to mind.

Suddenly I hear the crowd roaring, so I know that the tributes from Planet 1 have already made their entrance. I hear catcalls, and it makes me crack a smile. Catcalls for cat-people. Go figure.

When I look at Ross, I see that he's caught onto it, too, and we both try to suppress our laughter.

"I wonder what they'll do for the Dracon tributes," he says, referring to the tributes from Planet 2 – the ones standing between us and our holographic introduction.

"Breathe fire on them?" _Dracon. Planter 2, Peacekeeper training, stone mining, and weaponry. The Dracon have the ability to breathe a decent fire. Not nearly enough to toast someone, but it'll give you a good burn if you get to close. They're pretty good with weaponry, and strength, and all… Weakness? Cold. They must be kept at decently warm temperatures to be effective..._

We both chuckle and continue watching as the first chariot makes its way around the field. As soon as the cheering starts to wear off, they send out the Dracon so that another round of it can begin. I don't see anybody blowing fire though, but I guess that's for the best. We wouldn't want the stadium to burn down before we get to our big entrance. …or _do_ we? I know that Ross most certainly does.

"You ready?" Ross asks. I can see him tense up, and I know that he's probably just as nervous – if not more – than I am. Like Yamynne said to do, I take his hand. It's part of the act that we're going to be putting on in just a minute, but I'm also kind of hoping that's it's comforting to him. Even though I'm trying not to like him, he deserves the same opportunity to win that I do. Being calm might help him with that. "Thanks," he whispers, gripping my hand tightly. I just nod.

As we hear the people die down again, Ross and I face the front. The chariot horses move forward, and we both stand up. Our heads are tucked down, but we still keep a sharp eye looking for our lightening. I don't know if it comes with sound effects, so I'm just making sure that we don't miss our cue.

As we enter the arena, the crowd goes wild, excited to see the abnormal tributes from Planet 3. I feel a blush settling onto my face, and Ross grips my hand tighter. I hear the crack of thunder, and from the corner of my eye, I see the lightening. Ross and I throw our hands into the air as the holographic lightening surrounds us, with my left hand and his right joined. My right hand goes out to my side, and I feel the steady vibrations of the electronic dress coming to life. We look up at the crowd, and they're even more ecstatic than they were just a moment ago. They're cheering, and screaming, and clapping as the green lights swirl on and around us. I let a smile grace my face, and I just hope that it's big enough. I look out to see Yamynne, and I find her sitting next to Hanya and Jobain. They're all standing and clapping, screaming some sort of encouraging words. I give a small nod to them as the chariot continues.

After a few seconds, I let go of Ross's hand, and we wave the the crowd. I even blow a few kisses. I'm just now hearing the anthem, even though it started when the Felpurr went onto the field a few minutes ago. We circle around the field, and then we line up behind Planet 2's chariot, which is in front of the President's mansion. We're all lined up side by side, and there are speakers in front of the mansion and around the field so that when President Laurali speaks, her voice will be heard by everyone.

As the other tributes enter the arena, some people look at them, but most of their eyes are on Ross and me. It's obvious that unless one of the other stylists pulls a Katniss (as it's apparently referred to), no excitement from the crowd will be quite as grand as ours. And from what Yamynne said, I don't think any of the other stylists even dared to _try_ a Katniss. Funny. You'd think that after about nine-hundred years, _someone_ other than Yamynne would have gotten the guts. I guess they were all too cozy and plush in their Capitol lives to ever want to risk it. I just hope that Yamynne hasn't gotten herself into any trouble. I was just starting to like her…

Soon enough, all the tributes are lined up, all of us in black chariots with snow-colored horses. How they trained this many horses to be this tame is beyond my understanding.

Shortly after the anthem decrescendos into the background, President Laurali steps into the podium. Like Token Loid, she's young, but she's definitely a pretty little thing. She's got this honey-blonde hair that bounces down her back and bright blue eyes that seem to twinkle as much as the stars above us. Her lips are a cross between pink in red, a shade that goes perfectly with her tanned skin. She's wearing a forest green, strapless dress, with little trills and ruffles going down her back in a line. From this close, I can see that her nails are clear with little white tips. She's also human – of course. There hasn't been a president that wasn't biologically human since… well, since _forever_. Why biologically? Because somewhere along the lines of life, I heard that _real_ humans had hearts. So I guess no one on Panem could really be considered a _real_ human.

She taps the microphone twice, but it doesn't squeak like I expect it to. It just gives off a dull _thud, thud_. "Hello…?" she asks, and I'm surprised when her voice doesn't have the posh Capitol tone. I wonder where she came from. I guess I probably should have paid more attention to government in school. Then she smiles a big broad smile, and her white teeth gleam like her eyes. "Hi there. As you all know, I'm President Giella Laurali." She still doesn't have the Capitol tone, but her voice has definitely gained some confidence. A fleeting thought of mine wonders if it's fake. "I'd like to welcome you all to the one thousandth annual Hunger Games!"

The crowd erupts for the umpteenth time this night, and I cast my gaze around them. The majority of the crowd is human, like I expected, but there are some members from other planets. I see a group of Cyclops sitting just to the left of President Laurali's mansion. _Cyclops. Planet 12 – coal mining. The Cyclops are strong and brutish. They're got three eyes, with the dominant and largest one in the middle of their forehead. Weakness? Intelligence. Not exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer… a dull butter knife, really_. Then again, the Capitol _did_ program them to be simple coal minors. I guess they got what they wanted. As always.

President Laurali goes on and about things that I really don't care about. It's a speech almost _exactly_ the same as the one given by the Representatives during the reaping. Long, boring, and full of stories about the Capitol's many victories. She says something respective and nice about all of our mentors and escorts, and she doesn't even fumble once with the names, which is a surprise to me. Surely Planet's 4's escort's name – Swasith Wisscush – took some practice, but she said it like she would any other name. I guess they don't call her the president for _nothing_.

When she was done with her speech, she wished all of the contestants luck, and then our chariots pulled us back out the way we came in. Within a few minutes, we were back at the training center, huddled outside of the elevator so that we could rush up to our floors and put on some pajamas. I'm a little surprised that we're not taken to the transporter, but I don't say anything about it. I notice the two Faerie tributes, who are both flying and flittering around nervously. Their stylists did spectacular. Even though Faeries have this natural glow about them, they've still had added glitter and sparkles. The male, who's name I think is Riso, has this kind of pale bluish skin that's almost white. He's wearing a sparkling white tux and shiny black shoes that have probably never touched the floor. The girl, Falah's daughter Nakine, is almost an exact replica of her mother. She's got the pale yellow skin with the greenish edges in the corners of her eyes. Her hair is golden blonde and is down her back in waves. She looks like an angel in the white dress she's wearing, a dress that looks like it's made entirely of glitter.

I debate saying something to her, but then she and a bunch of other tributes shove themselves onto the elevator. It fits almost all of them, except for me, Ross, and the tributes from Planet 10… _Dwarves. Planet 10 – Livestock. Dwarves are amazingly durable and extremely patient. Weakness? More or less, coordination. They can't even climb a latter, much less a tree._ "Um… hi," the female Dwarf says. I didn't catch her name earlier, so I suppose that it's good that she says it now. "I'm Janeesa." She motions to the _much_ larger Dwarf next to her. I mean, he's _huge_, with these ridiculous muscles that only a trained Dwarf must be able to possess. "And this is Dabbo." Dabbo snorts.

"Hi," Ross says, immediately shaking her hand and playing the friendly contestant. "I'm Ross. This is Avi."

"Avoria," I corrected, for the sake of talking to people I didn't know. Also because I figure that it will embarrass Ross. "And I can introduce myself." I scowl at him and then smile at Janeesa and shake her hand. She looks a little confused, but I don't plan on explaining anything. The fewer friends I make, the better.

"You seemed… different," she said, tilting her head to the side. Her long brown braids went with her, sliding over her strangely torso. Both she and her partner were dressed in some sort of wild bird get up. Peacock, I think. I'm not entirely sure. They appeared to be wearing cool colored feathers made of extravagant cloth. Their bodies were laced in blues, greens, and whites that all seemed to mix and blend together perfectly to form interesting swirls and shapes. "Nicer," she decides.

I could have pretended to be offended, but instead I choose to shrug it off. "Yeah, well, a lot of people fake it when they're in front of the cameras."

Ross, of course, turns my comment into something more sick and twisted, and he starts to laugh. Janeesa even gives a few giggles, but I just sigh. I actually do find it kind of funny – albeit childish – but I'm not going to laugh with them. "Haha. Very funny, Ross," I say. Just as he stops laughing and start to apologize, the elevator opens. I immediately jump on and hit the button for the doors to close. The only other person who makes it on is Dabbo, who just grunts at me to press the button for the tenth floor. I press the button for the third first, and then I lean back against the wall. I know that I didn't send any good messages to Janeesa – or Ross, for that matter – but I guess it doesn't matter. She looks too innocent to be anything but a bloodbath, anyways, and I already know that I'm probably going to be sorry when she dies. As for Dabbo? Probably not. However, I do respect him keeping to himself.

When the doors for the third floor open, I fly out of them without saying another word to Dabbo. I head to my private quarters, where I find Jobain and Massika waiting for me. "Is Ross up yet?" Massika asks, and I just shake my head and say that he didn't catch the elevator. "Good."

"What's going on?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. I'm not really in the mood to be nervous or coy, so I sound pretty aggravated when I talk. Oh well. They'll just have to deal with it.

"We've got a few things we'd like to talk to you about… alone," Jobain says. He looks more serious than I've ever seen him, which is a bit… saddening, I guess. I supposed I've kind of counted on him to be the upbeat one in all of this. Massika certainly isn't, and really, I'm no better.

"Mmhmm?" I ask, crossing my arms. I try to pass for annoyed, and I hope it works. I would sit down on the couch (what I'd _really_ like to do is go to bed and sleep), but I don't want them to think that I'm not taking them seriously. Besides, the faster this is over with, the better.

"You're aware of the fact that that only _one_ tribute is allowed to win."

"Most of the time," I answer, thinking back to Katniss. Boy, _that_ surely must have been a shocker when she found out that two tributes were allowed to live. I don't know exactly what she did to piss off the Capitol – they won't tell anybody, most likely to ensure prevention of a repeat, even after so long – but it must have been pretty bad if they killed her for it.

"And that means we've only got _one_ hope," Jobain says, picking up where Massika left off. It's a little creepy how they can do that – even more so when I think about how different they are – but they've been doing this for what? Four? Five years now? They've got this down like the back of their hand… for lack of a better cliché saying.

"Obviously." Both of them look slightly annoyed, but I turn away so that I can't see their faces. I look arrogant when I do it so that I don't look ashamed, which it kind of how I feel for being sarcastic towards them. It's a little… unnerving.

"Avoria, if I were you, I'd _listen_ to this," Jobain says, and just as I'm about to remind him that he's _not_ me, Massika jumps in.

"Our votes are on _you_, Avoria." I would say that I'm shocked, but actually, I kind of expected it… I hope that I don't sound snobbish, but as far as I can tell, Ross really doesn't have a lot going for him. He's nice, which is just a curse in the Games, and unless he has any secret weapons skills, than I really can't think of anything.

I feel like saying something sarcastic, but I think that would make me seem more conceited than I _actually_ am. "Well, um… that's… nice?"

"You need to take this _seriously_," Massika says, crossing her arms over her chest. "Statistically speaking, you have a better chance in that arena. We won't see any experimental tests until your scores come back, and by then it will be too late. This is all we have to go on. Do you understand?"

I nod, even though I probably _don't_ understand that merits of what I'm getting into.

"Good," Jobain says, adding a nod of his own. "We'll start your interview training tomorrow night, after you get back from the Games' training. You're going to need a personality tweak."

"What do you _mean_?" I ask, just a _little_ disturbed by his words. "I've been a _perfect_ tribute so far! What do you need to _tweak_?"

"The attitude," Massika replies sharply. "All you've done so far is make an appearance or two. The interview will show people what you're _really_ like, Avoria, and as of right now, they're not going to like what they see."

"Well since _you're_ the queen of pleasantries, please, tell me what I need to _do!_" I feel my body tense up as I shout, and I immediately try to relax. She – not unlike my mother – is just _so_ easy to get angry at. She's criticizing, and condescending, and more than just a little hypocritical.

"That's _enough_," Jobain says, stepping between us. "If we want this to work, _both_ of you need to be alive." He turns to me. "We'll discuss everything we need to discuss tomorrow." He turns back to Massika and grabs her wrist, quite literally having to drag her out of my room. I want to yell something at both of them, but I don't know what I can yell that won't make me seem even worse than they think I am. I just settle for removing the magnificently lighted garment, taking a shower, and getting some much needed sleep before my training.

_I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I_

**Author's Note:**

**Teehee! Somewhere up there, I used the words 'posh' and 'Capitol' in the same sentence, which I think I stole from SneverusSnapers. xD (By the way, YES, I AM still reading ****Gnawing Hunger****. I'm just reading it bit by bit so I can actually do some of the things I'm supposed to do! For those of you who **_**aren't**_** SneverusSnapers and haven't read ****Gnawing Hunger****, go read it. NOW. :D I'm also going to give my thanks to SneverusSnapers in these parentheses! So deal with it! xD Thank you for reviewing and helping to reassure me of my originality! :D)**

**I MUST give a super-duper-special thanks to Twirlgirl821 and ChaosUmbrella, both of whom wished me a happy birthday! ^-^ You two are AWESOME, and for reviewing every chapter, I'm going to give you these virtual leftover cupcakes from my birthday! *hands over the precious cupcakes* **

**You know that if you see a mistake, you should fix it. Ok, well, tell **_**me**_** to fix it since I write these things at abnormal times… xD Also, I'm sorry it took so long! You know, turning 14 and all… Tomorrow is the Fourth of July, so I'll be celebrating **_**that**_** when I should be writing the next chapter! xD My apologies on the birthday and holidays and stuff… Other than band camp week, this SHOULD be the busiest time for me! **

**By the way… I think I want a more interesting summary. Any of you got any ideas? If you have ANY ideas, give them to me, along with your name. If your idea wins, I'll name an important tribute after you. ;D **

**-QOTB-**


	9. The Line

**QUEENOFTHEBUTTERFLIES**  
><span>GALACTIC GAMES<span>  
><em>THE LINE<em>

* * *

><p>Training actually wasn't so bad. So far, I've already been to a few different stations, and I have yet to die, so I'm taking that as a good sign. I tossed a spear around some, finding that I could still hit the targets. Maybe not the bull's-eye, but close enough to be satisfactory. The bow and arrows were a little trickier and took a little more time, but gradually, I was able to use them about as well as the spear. After that, it was about time for lunch, so all of us had to eat in a large dining hall that was conveniently off the side of the training room. As usual, most of the Careers sat together, but Ross and Janeesa sat with me, which I guess was ok. They made lots of small talk, but I refused to engage other than to interject every now and then and ask them for some sort of condiment. They didn't seem to mind.<p>

After lunch, we went back into the training room and trained some more. I looked at a few things on how to set fires (like how to actually make them, what kinds of sticks and stone to look for, how to use them to their maximum potential, etc…). I looked at some climbing and flexibility classes, which were surprisingly interesting. Mostly, they involved ropes on the ceiling and gymnastics lessons. The ropes were pretty easy to climb, but the gymnastics training took a little more work. Rolling around on the floor wasn't exactly my idea of fun, but I could see where all the flipping and looping could come in handy. I tried not to spend too long anywhere, but somehow, the four things I did managed to take up an entire day. We were able to eat dinner on our own floor, which would have been ok if not for Hanya's constant asking of so many questions on how the training went. I answered her with monosyllable words, but Ross was much more engaging, so I didn't have to worry about it too much.

Shortly after dinner, Massika and Jobain came to my courters. Jobain seems to be much more high-spirited than he was yesterday, but Massika still remains the same. Regardless, I try to act at least decent towards them as they talk to me about my interview. They tell me that I need to act strong and confident, but that I also need to show a humorous side to myself as well so that I'll get along with the audience. "Frankly, I don't _care_ if the audience likes me or _not_."

"You'll regret that when you're on the forest floor bleeding out because no one will send us any money," Massika snaps, and that pretty much shuts me up. What _can_ I say to that? Honestly? So I just sit back and listen to all they have to say. They remind me to smile, and nod, and not to ask any questions – just answer them. It all seems very boring and very easy. After about an hour or so of coaching, they go off, and I'm left to myself to shower, change, and sleep.

Today's training is a bit different. I spend the _entire_ morning learning about medicine and herbs. Some foods aren't safe to eat, but they're perfectly good when you combine them with this and that and use them for one specific purpose or another. If I actually try to think about it, I can remember it fairly well, so it's pretty much a success. There's another lunch with Ross and Janeesa, but this time, Riso joins us. He seems just as talkative as Janeesa, and more than just a little perverted for a fifteen-year-old who's the height of a five-year-old, but I ignore his jabs and continue eating. I debate threatening him, but that would cause unwanted attention.

When we go back into the training room, I'm not sure what I should do next, so I look at a few things involving survival skills and whatnot. I figure that surviving is going to be pretty important. There's stuff on how to purify water, and what kinds of trees make good hideouts, and how to cook raw animals. I spend the rest of the way looking a variety of things like that, hoping that they'll come in handy. By the end of today, I leave for my courters with a bunch of knowledge that I should probably retain.

I go to dinner, and then to my room. As expected, Massika and Jobain are waiting for me in my courters. "Let's talk Games strategy," Jobain says the second I enter the room. He pulls me over to the couch and sits me down right in the middle seat, between Massika and himself.

"How's your spear training?" Massika asks.

"Um… it's going good."

"Good. So if you see one in the Cornucopia – or by chance, a dagger or ninja stars – get it. Just make sure that you watch your back. Don't get killed."

"I wasn't planning to." Wow. Ok then… Don't most mentors warn their tributes to stay _away_ from the Cornucopia? Other than the Career mentors, I would imagine so. I mean, it _is_ called bloodbath for a reason…

"Good," Jobain continues. "Just try to make sure that you grab anything you can along with way. Food, backpacks, small weapons…"

"Got it." I nod in response.

"Alright," Massika says, getting up from the couch. "We have to give Ross an interview rehearsal tonight. We'll see you again tomorrow – after the training scores and before the interview. Last minute prep work." Although grudgingly, I agree. I'm still not too thrilled about the idea of them training me – I _understand_ that I have to smile and play nice. But the man who gives the interviews, Optum Norra, just wants to dig up dirt on all the contestants and see how they react in public. Really, he's a _horrible_ person for the job, but the Capitol seems to like his style, so I guess they don't really _care_ how we feel about him. What else is new?

I just can't let him get to me. Even if he says something about Brick… I have to bite my lip for that one. If he _dares_ to say anything even moderately insulting about Brick, I'll probably end up clawing him to pieces right there on that stage. So I hope that for his sake, he stays clear of talking about my little brother.

"Ok," I say, giving them a moderate (and obviously fake) smile so that they don't know what I've been thinking about. If I had attempted to give them a _real_ smile, they would have known that something was up. "Good. Great. I'll see you tomorrow." Without looking to see if they're leaving, I strut back to my room.

When I wake up the third morning, I'm full of nervous jitters. Today is the day we get our training scores, and I'm not exactly sure what I'm going to do. Of course, all the Career tributes get the best scores, somewhere between eight an ten, if I'm right. Everyone else is typically in the four to seven range. There have been a few rare cases of someone getting less than a four or more than a ten, but those only happen every few years. Secretly, though, I'm kind of hoping for an eleven. I know that it's a long shot, considering that my skills lie in small weapons, but I really hoping to impress someone. Everyone back home is going to see my score, and I want Brick to be the one who gets to say, "_My_ sister got an _eleven_." And I guess in a way, I want Mom to be proud of me, too.

I get dressed in something that I can do combat in. It's like a dark brown cat suit almost, but it actually works. The sleeves are close, but not too tight, and the rest of it is just snug but not hard to move around in. I put on another pair of boots – not the leather ones – that seem to wrap themselves around my shins. I don't want to have to worry about any flapping garments during my testing. After I'm satisfied with how I look, I head for the door.

After a few seconds, Ross comes out of his room. We wait outside the elevator patiently, seeing as it stops on almost every floor to pick up tributes. Hanya, Massika, and Jobain all wish us luck, and we accept it graciously. Ross even wishes me good luck, and I just nod my head in his direction, unsure of what to say. So far, my plan to be unfriendly really hasn't been working all that well. Or at all.

When the elevator opens, both of us slide on. Luckily, this is only the third floor, so not too many people are on. We stand in silence with the Felpurr and the Dracon, and then when the Trynnies get on – _Trynnie. Planet four – fish and seafood. The Trynnies are born as thieves, what with their trickery and backstabbing. Weakness? Medicine. For some reason, it just overpowers their natural senses or something… I guess that's why they try their best not to get hurt. Gulp._ It's pretty much the same. However, after that, the elevator goes back down, and the eight of us walk to the training room's dining hall. It's been cleared of everything except one table and twenty-four chairs around it. We all sit with our respective tributes, and the boy from Planet 1 is called in before the next set of eight even arrive in the room.

I'm glad that I'm from Planet 3 because I don't have to spend very much time waiting. I still have no idea what I'm going to do, so I try to formulate some sort of plan. I know that they have daggers and shuriken. For now, I think my best is to stick with the shuriken. For some reason, they seem more impressive than anything I can do with a dagger. Hopefully, being ambidextrous will come in handy. It has before.

Before I know it, Ross is being called into the room, and I find myself saying, "Good luck."

"Don't worry," he says, tossing me one of his offhanded smiles. "I'll try. And um… good luck to you, too."

I give a small smile and a nod. I don't know _why_ I wished him luck – just another one of those _things _I suppose. I say '_things'_ because I really have no idea what else I _can_ say.

A few minutes later, they're calling for Avoria Maydel to enter the training room, and I take a nervous gulp of air and saliva. As I stand up, the tributes from planets five through eight are finally showing up, and Riso the Faerie gives me a small wave. I just bite my lip and nod, mentally preparing myself to enter the training room.

It looks almost exactly like it did when I left, only with a few dents and scratches. Some arrows are leaking out of one of the targets, and three of the lights at the far end of the room have spears jammed into them. I gulp again. I vaguely wonder what Ross did in here, but then I notice the fifteen Gamemakers standing there, preparing to evaluate me for my skills. I take a deep breath and walk over to the section of the room with the shuriken and throwing knifes. None of them have been touched, which I find very fortunate. As I'm looking over the shuriken – for they all have different edges and different sizes – I slip a few of the throwing knifes into my sleeves, making sure that only the tips are visible. Maybe I'll need them.

I pick up a few different types of shuriken, finally settling on smaller ones with smooth edges. In each hand, I hold the shuriken like a deck of cards. I walk to the center of the room, trying to see if the Gamemakers' eyes are on me. Most of them are, but some of them are just staring at the food, wishing that it wasn't too early in the scoring for them to stuff their faces. I take a deep breath and cross my arms over my chest, hoping for the best. And with that, I fling my hand out to the side, throwing the shuriken to both sides of me in two diagonal lines. With the remaining few, I cross my lines, hoping to finish my Xs.

However, I hadn't expected for the Gamemaker in the middle to move in a hurry, and out of reflex, the fingers on my left hand tuck in for one of my throwing knives to shoot. Before I can think, it's flying out of my hand and towards the Gamemaker. Had he not held up his clip board at _just_ the right moment, it would have gone threw his heart. Instead, it pierces is clipboard in the space right in _front_ of his heart. Or black hole. Whatever he has in there.

He screams, and the other Gamemakers just gasp in shock. In my own horror, I want to gasp at what I've done, but my mind kicks in and tells me that it looks _amazing_. I decide to just go with it. I look up and realize that this – the spot where I'm standing – is where we worked on part of the flexibility and climbing exercises. I jump up and grab one of the ropes, looping my wrist through it so that I can pull myself up with relative ease. I pull out two more of the knives and hook them into the ceiling, using them to crawl across it. My knees are tucked painfully into my chest, and my arms are burning with the weight of me, but I keep going, jabbing the daggers into the ceiling at an angle so that they don't just slide out. When I reach the far end of the room – where the spears are lodged into the lights – I pull my right dagger out of the ceiling and tuck it back into my sleeve. I drop my legs down, so I look like a girl dangling from the ceiling with one hand. The Gamemakers still look mortified – but impressed – so I don't stop to think about what I'm doing. Using my right hand, I pull out of the spears out of the ceiling and heave it towards the Gamemakers' table. It lands in a huge bowl of something, shaking the table and causing some drinks to topple over, but still sticking out of the strange substance at a perfect forty-five degree angle. That was certainly more impressive than anything I expected. I'm just glad I _hit _something. I take a second to examine my Xs, and I'm pleasantly surprised. I didn't know that there were targets on either end of the room, but my shuriken landed right on the middle ones, with my Xs's centers lines up to the bull's-eyes'. That's impressive – even for me, if I may be so humble.

Leaving the knife in the ceiling, I drop down and do a tuck-and-roll, making sure that I land on my feet when I end it. I pull a knife from each of my sleeves, and I hurl that at the same Gamemaker I apparently attacked earlier. They land on either side of his head, and he _literally_ faints. Some of the other Gamemakers rush to help him up. Others' mouths are wide open, so I figure that it might be time to pull something smart. "If I may beg your pardon sirs and madams… I think we're finished here." Some of them just nod, their faces looking as if they'd just seen the most terrifying thing in their life. And for all I know, they had. _Hey_, I think to myself_, you're bound to get at *least* a ten._ Well, I would certainly hope so.

When I exit the dining hall, I find Ross standing out side of the door. "Hey," he says, immediately getting up from his leaning spot against the wall. "How do you think you did?"

I smile. "I think I did great. Well, at least I _hope_ I did. You?" I can't help but make pleasant conversation – I totally kicked ass in there! I went _completely_ ninja on them, _plus_ I managed to get lucky at least three or four times in a row. Talk about fortunate!

"Eh. I think I did alright," he says, motioning with his hand.

"What did you do?" I ask as we begin to walk down the hall. For once, I'm actually excited instead of nervous. If I had been one of the Gamemakers – not the one in the middle, of course, who was passed out – I would have been clapping. And terrified. Clapping _and_ terrified.

"It's a secret," he says, leading the way to the transporter pad. We were told to go to our respective stylists immediately, so there's no hope in being able to take the elevator. I don't even know where the stylists' rooms _are_ since we can only get there my transporting. It's a bit odd.

"Oh… something you plan to use against me later?" I tease, and I resent myself for it as soon as I say it. _Don't play along, dammit._ I try to wipe the smile off my face, but it's just too impossible.

"Something like that," he says, moving out of the way so that I can enter the transporter room first. I want to tell him not to do that, but really, what difference would it make? Ross was born a gentlemen, apparently, and gentlemen just _don't_ hate 'ladies' – although I can scarcely be classified as a lady.

We both get on the transporter pad, and we're beamed back Yamynne's room. Ross is immediately taken away, just like the first time, and my prep team forces me to strip and shoves me back in my little paralysis containment field. As they do their final tweezing and waxing, they ask me about my training and my scoring. I tell them that I think I did great, and Walizza positively beam at me. "That's wonderful!" she says, scrubbing all the color off of my nails. It was coming off anyways. "Just wonderful!"

As part of their assignment, I am not to grow any unattractive hair during the Games, which means that they have to use some kind of chemical something on my eyebrows, arms, fingers, legs, feet, stomach, pits, and _there_. It stings a lot, but afterwards, they put some sort of soothing lotion on it. "Do I get a lollipop?" I ask, and they laugh at me. Of _course_ I don't get a lollipop. They'll make me sticky.

My nails are painted with with some sort of pattern done in the techno-green that was used for my chariot outfit. Something tells me that I'll be seeing the color again. My toenails are painted the same way, but it's not like I can see them. I can barely catch a glimpse of my _finger_nails as it is.

Serincia bathes me off again, making sure to scrub off as much of my skin as possible. Jabriik works with my hair, and Walizza – who I think I like the best (minus Yamynne, of course) – just stands by the side and chats with me, telling me that my interview dress looks absolutely stunning, and I'm going to look amazing in it. I tell her that I'm sure that I am – _anything_ they make for me is bound to be amazing. She just beams, and her natural humble nature takes over, and she insists that she really didn't do much as far as the actual design of the outfits, which I can believe. Yamynne doesn't seem to be one for sharing.

After I'm all cleaned and dried off, Yamynne comes in with my dress for the interview. It's a white dress with a square neckline, one inch straps, and a hem that looks like it's going to end at my knees. The design on the dress is in the techno-green, and it's the same as the one on my nails. It's a bunch of lines running off one another in vertical and horizontal patterns. The pattern is small but very noticeable, and it spirals around the dress. "Wow," I say, meaning to reach out and touch the dress. But I forget that I'm paralyzed, and so Walizza immediately turns off the containment field. Serincia catches me, just like before.

I walk up to Yamynne and touch the dress. The fabric is incredibly soft, and I can see that the green sparkles a little when it moves under the light. "Wow…" I say as she hands it to me. My prep team immediately hurries off to gather the appropriate undergarments for me, but I barely notice. "This is really… pretty."

"Pretty?" Yamynne scoffs, waving one of her paws at me. "This is more than _pretty_. This is the finest quality material that the Capitol has to offer! The design is _flawless_." But she adds a smile, too, so I know that she's just playing with me. But I don't want to undermine any of her work, so I say:

"Absolutely! I mean, it's just _gorgeous_… it feels like gold in my hands…"

"It's better than gold," she says, just as my prep team rushes back. "It's _yours_." She takes the dress from my hands as the team gets me into my panties and whatnot. I notice yet again that the bra has made improvements to my chest, but by now, I'm used to it. It's actually kind of… nice.

Then they carefully stuff me into the dress, making sure that everything looks _just_ right before they give it the ok. My shoes are white heels, but they're open toed so that people will be able to see my beautiful pedicure. My sharp and short haircut seems to complete the look, giving it a, "warrior with class," sort of appearance. I'm sure that with my longer hair, I just would have looked like a little girl. Who's to say that I _don't_? But to me, I look at least fifteen, which is a grand improvement from my actual thirteen.

Placing a dark garment over my dress, they begin to work on my make-up. A little bit of color is added to all of my visible skin, and they add some blush to pink it up in just the right places. My eyelashes are done with black mascara, but nothing too heavy. My eye shadow is white, with just a hint of green in the edges – kind of like Nakine and Falah's. There's black eye liner, which goes under my eyes in a light coat. On my upper eyelids, though, Jabriik drags it out a little farther than it needs to be and curls it up at the end. After some lipstick – a darkish red – they announced that I'm finished.

Quickly after that, they ship me off to Hanya's courters via transporter, where she, Massika, Jobain are already waiting. For my final 'prep talk' Massika and Jobain go over everything they taught me just two days ago – as if I've forgotten. They make sure that I sit like a lady, and they also check to see that I walk properly in the shoes. Only a few minute later does Ross show up, and whereas everyone else pretty much looks the same – Hanya in green, Jobain in bright colors, and Massika in dark ones – Ross looks _amazing_. He's got on a pair of black trousers and a white, business-like shirt, which is decorated in the same green pattern that my dress is. His dark hair has obviously been trimmed some, but it still gives off that loose, carefree feeling somehow.

"Wow," we say simultaneously. But other than that, we really have nothing we _can_ say because Hanya is dragging us to the elevator. Once we get on, oddly enough, it's empty. We ride down to the main lobby, and then we're rushed over to one of the _other_ transporters. I don't see _why_ we couldn't have just gone where we needed to go from the _first_ transporter pad, but…

We all step onto it, and sure enough, we are beamed just inside of President Laurali's mansion. I don't have time to look at all of the expensive stuff, though, because as soon as we materialize, we're shoved out the door while our mentors and escort are shoved in some other direction. Ross and I step onto a stage, and I notice that there are lots of chairs facing away from us. The first four chairs to our right contain tributes, so we suppose that we're to take the next two. It seemed to be going boy-girl-boy-girl, so we just continue the pattern. I'm relieved that I don't have to sit next to the female Dracon tribute – with her skin the color of dried blood and her snout-like, sharp-toothed mouth – but I doubt sitting next to a Trynnie will be any better. If I don't keep my eye on him, he'll probably be able to pocket the ring off my finger. I shift it over to my right hand, just to make sure that when he gets here, he won't try anything. Damn thieves.

Approximately five minutes later, the Trynnies arrive. Five minutes after that, the Faeries. And so on and so forth until the Cyclops from Planet Twelve finally arrive about forty-five minutes later. Without a second to spare, the lights in the arena dim, and the crowd – which had been previously talking and cheering – goes silent. Screens from all around the stadium light up, but the biggest one is across the field from the contestants. Even at this great a distance, we can all see the screen with amazing accuracy. The anthem starts to play, and then the Hunger Games logo flashes on the screen. After that, I see the face of the head Gamemaker – Quill Harem, the dude I threw the knifes at. A string of cusswords shoots threw my mind as I realize what I've done. I would bite my lip, but it would ruin the make-up. I just settle for keeping my eyes wide and alert. Oh, _God_, I hope that I didn't totally screw myself…

He talks a little about the Games and how excited he is for them this year. He doesn't go on long, and soon enough, a picture of the male tribute from Planet 1, whose name is Xion Keilht, flashes onto the screen. I can see that he's sixteen years old, and that his training score was a ten. Impressive. I wonder if he was the one to shoot the spears into the light bulbs… or maybe the bow and arrows. The spear just seems more… likely. The girl's name is Kipei Matlh, and she got a nine. I watch as the faces of the two Dracon pass before me, and then Ross, who scored an impressive nine. "What did you _do_?" I whisper silently, but I just see him smile.

I'm beyond nervous when my face flashes on the screen (I'm now _positive_ that the pictures they're showing are recent, because my hair is cut). When the number flashes on the bottom of the screen, I can barely maintain my gasp. It takes all the power I possess not to bring my hand up to my mouth. I see a few other tributes – namely Xion and Lipra, the Dracon girl – glaring at me enviously, and I feel Ross grip my hand. "You did better than great, Avi…" he whispers. He gives my hand a tight squeeze, and then lets go. "You were _perfect_."

I can't believe it. I just… can't… _believe_ it. I, Avoria Maydel, got a freakin' _twelve_. There it is, flashing in platinum on the screen – whereas most tribute's scores range from gold to silver in color. The numbers _one_ and _two_ placed side by side. I'm not oblivious to the fact that the next number line is _three_, the number of my Planet…

The rest of the scores go by in a blur, although I do manage to note that Dabbo – along with the female Trynnie, Ashaba – makes an eleven. I vaguely wonder what their skills are, but I suppose it doesn't matter. _They_ made an eleven, and _I_ made a twelve. I can feel the cockiness coming on, and I hope that it'll suit me well for the interview because there's no way I can get rid of it. When the names are done and the crowd has clapped, Optum Norra comes onto the stage, looking just as sly and dirty as ever. He's got this dark purple suit on, one that almost looks as if it could pass for brown. He's also got a black shirt underneath, and a purple, spotted tie. His hair grows in short black and white spikes on his head, and his eyes – which are such a dark shade of brown they seem black – practically bug out of his head. I wonder how _this_ creep got to be head of the interviewing committee.

The audience claps as he comes on stage, but we tributes remain silent. We have _no_ idea what he could know about us, which makes it all the more horrible. Xion doesn't look very happy when he goes up to the microphone, but then again, when does a big (correction: _huge_) cat-man with jet-black fur ever look _happy_? He answers everything with a yes or no fashion, even when Optum starts talking about some girlfriend that he apparently left behind. I guess that was the worst he could find.

The other tributes are actually fairly boring as well – at least until he gets to Ross. And for some reason, when he starts asking Ross the personal questions, _I_ feel insulted. I also feel like I have to protect him, but I just barely bite my tongue a number of times. Ross does as well… until they get to _one_ question that crosses the line. No – it doesn't _cross_ the line. It runs past the line so fast that it's not even noticeable, and it laughs at the line from a distance.

"So, Ross," Optum hisses, quite literally stretching out the Ss like one would imagine a snake doing. "I heard that you have – oops, I mean _had_ – a little sister… Do tell me, what was her name?" I feel like punching the guy in the gut for it – it's such a _horrible_ question to ask. Even though Ross and I weren't close – at _all_ – everyone knew about Dari's accident. Rilla, Ross's mom, had gone inside for just a second. _Just_ to check the food on the stove, but when she came back, Dari had disappeared. She had been fetching a toy from the yard of some Peacekeepers. She was only two – she didn't understand what they meant when they told her to get off the lawn. When she still tried to get the ball, they shot her. Right there. In cold blood. They _shot_ an _unarmed child_ – full of innocence, and happiness, and bliss – because she was too young to understand what they were saying. The Peacekeepers _then_ tracked down her family, gave them an explanation (as if their actions were justifiable), and just dropped Dari's lifeless body on the porch. Just like that. Rilla cried for _months_ afterwards, hardly able to do anything. Ross's father, Armon, wasn't much better about it, either. I remember that everyone in Carvonova chipped in with some of what little food they had for the grieving family. I had been so confused, and I asked my mother repeatedly _why_ we needed to send _food_ of all things. Why not send happiness? _"Because_," she had told me, "_you cannot give away happiness. But by giving away something that brings it to you, the receiver gets the next best thing – care._" She had been pregnant with Brick at the time. I wonder if she knew about his… condition.

Ross's face transforms from a friendly smile to something rock hard. "Next question," he says in all seriousness. Optum just looks at him for a moment, as if surprised. In all his (crappy) years of interviewing, I don't think anyone's ever refused to answer a question.

"Well, I, um, uh…" he fumbles, going through his speech cards. He's probably looking for something that Ross _will_ answer so that the interview can proceed. Bastard. He probably doesn't even _care_ about the wound he just reopened in Ross. Scratch probably – he flat out _doesn't_ care. As long as he still has his job at the end of this. Which I'm hoping he _won't_.

And _that_ gives me an idea. After he's done asking Ross questions for the remainder of the three minutes – all very general questions that Ross happily answers – he moves on to me. I get up and walk over to where the microphone and the creep are standing, ready to try out my idea. Hopefully, Optum still hasn't learned his lesson from messing with Ross.

He starts off asking me a few general questions so that he can warm up, he even asks me a few about my medical condition – which, apparently, is a legit condition for Elves. Go figure. It's like an anti-disease, I guess. A blessing instead of a curse. "So, Avoria," he says, and I'm glad that I never allowed him to shorten my name to Avi. I wouldn't want it going through that creep's lips. "I hear that your brother has a medical condition as well…"

I don't know _how_ Optum knows the things he knows, but I swear that if I come out of this alive, I'm going to find his source and have it fired. And killed. "Next question," I say, keeping a blank look on my face. Optum looks just as confused – if not more so – than he did with Ross. I can hear the crowd asking questions, but I place that thought in the back of my mind.

"Uhm… excuse me?" he asks, and I can tell that he's getting angry. He grabs the microphone and turns it away from me. The crowd bursts into even more murmurs as he looks at me and says, "This is inexcusable. You _will_ answer the question. Being talked to that way by a _man_ is one thing, but a _woman_…?"

I slap him. I don't know why I do it (actually, I _do_ – because he's a _jerk_), and I don't think it through, but I just do it. Without even waiting for my allowed time to finish, I go and sit back down. Optum looks a little stunned, and he glares at me evilly, but he soon gets over it and calls the name of the male Trynnie next to me, Jempe Clupo. As I expected, he and Ashaba answer all of the questions willingly, trying their best to use their Career charms on the audience. But luckily for me, my plan as sparked something in the other tributes as well – the normal, non-Career tributes. When Riso flies up the the microphone, he refuses to answer any questions that he doesn't want to. Nakine, looking back at me, does the same. One by one, the rest of the tributes stop answering most of Optum's questions until he's forced to ask us all the same general ones that nobody really cares about. Even the _Cyclops_ get the hang of it in the end – and Optum thought he could pull one over on them.

So by the end of the interviews, all of us – with the exception of the Careers – have chosen to keep almost silent. As we leave the arena, I can see Optum glaring at me. He's probably going to get fired because of this. Good. I hope he does. Sexist bastard.

"Hey, Avi!" Ross says, catching up to me. "I just wanted to say thanks. For what you did in there for me. It was really cool."

"No problem," I say, flashing him a smile. "I would have done it anyways… you just gave me the means." I shrug, trying to seem nonchalant. I'm actually pretty excited by the whole idea, despite that fact that it'll most likely get me killed. It's best not to think about that.

"Well, still… thanks," he says. He gives me a quick peck on the cheek before he hurries back near the front of the line. Slowly, I bring my hand up to touch my cheek. It's like I can still feel his lips there, tingling against my skin. Suddenly I wonder why I've put these damned boundaries up in the first place, but my mind quickly reminds me. _To protect yourself, Avi_, it says, _because he's going to have to die_.

_I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I_

**Author's Note:**

**Teehee! I hope you found this chapter awesome! OVER SIX THOUSAND WORDS! NOT COUNTING THIS AUTHOR'S NOTE! :D OH, YEAH! Do you feel my epicness? :D **

**As usual, I must give a thanks to Twirlgirl821 for reviewing every chapter! I'm never going to get tired of it! :D Keep going! (Oh, and thank you for your summary submission! ;D)  
>Another thanks goes out to BabyBeaver, who was nice enough to wish me a happy birthday AND review. - AMAZING.<br>And yet ANOTHER one to Bumblebee27, who I think has given me my most ecstatic review yet! Way to go! :D  
>And FINALLY… (I'm just noticing that ALL of these thanks are beginning with 'A'… oh, well! :D) I want to thank tributegirl, who's comments (- PLURAL! :D) are much appreciated! <strong>

**I stayed up ALL night writing this (ok, and reading ****Gnawing Hunger**** by SneverusSnapers… :D xD), so you know the drill. If mistakes are seen, feel free to correct them. I will cause you no bodily harm. ;D I also wanna mention that this has a bit more cussing than I initially thought it would… not too much, but… O.o Yeah, if it fit, I put it there, so… way to go, Avi! :D **

**-QOTB-**


	10. Catch

**QUEENOFTHEBUTTERFLIES**  
><span>GALACTIC GAMES<span>  
><em>CATCH<em>

* * *

><p>I can't believe that I've <em>actually<em> made it this far. Granted, I probably won't make it much further, but just _being_ here feels like an accomplishment somehow. I'm standing on this large wooden platform with the other twenty-three tributes. We're all dressed relatively the same – with our pants being brown like the dirt and our shirts decked in camo colors – with only a few style differences, like the boys having muscle shirts, while we girls have tank tops on. We've all got on a pair of brown leather boots, and although they're not the same as the ones I got accustomed to on the ship, they're comfortable.

We're up in a giant tree. And when I say giant, I mean _so-freakin'-huge-that-you-can't-see-the-ground-and-it's-like-being-at-the-top-of-a-more-than-twenty-story-hotel_ giant. In front of us, the Cornucopia has been _carved_ into a very large tree branch. And it doesn't even take up a _forth _of the branch. If I were to get closer, I'm sure that I would be able to make out its spiral-like horn shape from the inside. However, I don't think I'll be willing to take that risk. Some of the Careers have been glaring at me mercilessly ever since I got my twelve, and I'm pretty sure that they think a bloodbath is a good way to eliminate the competition.

I'm not sure whether it's fortunate for me or not when I spot the shuriken. And of course, only a few meters off, there are daggers _and_ throwing knives. It's like these Games were _meant_ for me. Of course, there are the usual spears, bows and arrows, swords… There's even a halberd that could come in handy if someone – meaning not me – knows how to use it. There are also _lots_ of backpacks spread out all over, along with a bunch of various other items – food, sewing kits, sunglasses, etc… However, I don't have too much time to look around. When the gong goes off, I run. I run as fast as I can towards the shuriken, even managing to snag a backpack and loop my arms through it. I stoop low to the ground and reach for a pack of crackers, but they're swooped up before I can reach them. I look up, expecting to see a Career at my throat, but it's just Viva, the Mook girl from Planet 7. But a split second later, Viva's tripped from beneath by Kipei. She lets out a sharp scream as she's flipped over, and Kipei slices her hairy neck with a single claw. Then she grabs Viva's book bag and crackers. I feel like puking, but I know that I can't stop for too long. If I do, someone will kill me or take my ninja stars. Or kill me _and_ take my ninja stars. And even though I've only stopped for a second, it feels like an eternity. I continue scampering, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Xion pounce on the Droid boy, Pral. I'm just about to reach down to grab the shuriken when a strong foot steps on my hand, and I hear my knuckles crack. I look up to see the face of Kipper, a Rawulf boy, looking at me evilly. I'm about to scream – because let's face it, who _wouldn't_ scream with a big blood-thirsty wolf gaping over them – when he's tackled by a Cyclops. I don't allow myself to think about why. I just grab the shuriken and go. There are about twenty, so the more I can shoot and retrieve, the better. I try to look for the daggers and throwing knifes that I saw earlier, but they're gone.

Then I see Ashaba, the Trynnie with the light blonde fur, throwing a spear into the stomach of some boy, and I know that he's dead. Ashaba doesn't go back to collect anything other than the spear, and I have the sinking feeling that the dead boy is the one with my knives. No matter how sick and twisted it is in my head – and in reality, too – I run over to him and flip him over. My stomach quenches as I see the blood and guts, but I just bite my lip to keep myself from puking all over him. That would be… dishonorable to whoever this is. I know that I wouldn't like it if someone puked all over _my_ dead body. Then again, I wouldn't like being a dead body in _general_. It's just not something I desire to be. _At all._ So I might want to move just a _little_ faster…

He does have the knives, but they're bloody, which is unfortunate. Regardless, I shove the shuriken into my pack and take the knives from him. I use his clothes to wipe off some of the blood, but I can see that it's hopeless. I can also see the tip of a dagger sticking out of his pocket, so I pull it out. Along with two more daggers. I shove the knives and one dagger in with the shuriken, and then I make sure that I've got a dagger steady in both hands. In front of me, I see Lipra poised with a bow and arrow, her blood-red scales gleaming in the sunlight, and her dragon-like face drawn back in a vicious smile. But luckily, she's not facing in my direction. She shoots at a girl, and the girl's lifeless body falls to the ground, dead.

Something from underneath me sweeps me off my feet, and I notice that it's the Hobbit boy with a quarterstaff. _Hobbits. Planet 11, agriculture. Hobbits are known for their abilities to appear invisible and blend in with nature. Weakness? They require too much sleep. They can't go on very little hours of it._ I hold my hands up to cover my face, but he's attacked by Gilza, the Cyclops female. Her red hair flows behind her as she soars through the air, lands on Lias, and snapping his neck. I vaguely wonder why the two Cyclops seem to be protecting me, but I shake it off.

I start to run for one of the tree branches, hoping that I can find a suitable way to climb down, but when I turn around, I see Ross fighting with the Droid girl, Eela. She's got a sword in her hand, and Ross has nothing but some sickle-mace things that he probably doesn't know how to use. Without a moment's hesitation, I run towards her at full speed and topple her over, causing her sword to slice through Ross's upper arm instead of his chest. Holding her chest down with my left hand, I raise my right one and jam it right where her heart should be. She gives a cough, and if possible, her already greyish skin looks even paler. I think I pale a little as well. I stagger back, unable to believe what I just did. I just _saved_ Ross's life. After a week of trying to stay alienated, I _saved_ his _life_. And I _killed_ someone else to do it. Does the word ironic apply here? Does the word _murderer_? But no – I don't have _time_ to think. At least not now.

"Avoria…" Ross says, taking a step closer to me, but I don't want to hear anything he has to say; I just don't think I can bare it.

"Don't," I tell him, silencing him with my one word. He nods, clutching his hurt arm. I look up at the trees. "We need to get you high up. At least until I can find some sort of med kit. You go. I'll look." He nods again, and he runs off, leaving me at the Cornucopia. I hear a startled gasp behind me, and I look to see Jempe, one of the Trynnies, falling to the ground, dead. Gilza is standing right behind him. It looks as if he was trying to kill me, and she killed him instead. "Thanks," I murmur, biting my lip. I don't stand here for long, though. I run closer to the Cornucopia, hoping to spot some sort of medical equipment. There might be some in my bag, but I don't want to take that risk. I can hear Gilza's soft footsteps behind me, but I know that she isn't going to kill me. She and Ronom, her fellow tribute from Planet 12, have been _protecting_ me. And I may not know why, but I'm certainly not going to argue with it.

I spot a medical kit lying dangerous close to the Cornucopia, where Xion and Ashaba have already gathered. Other than Gilza and me (not to mention the bodies), the Careers are the only ones left here. We have to look like _idiots_. But the Careers look a little tired, and I can't spot a single one looking this way. Plus, Gilza and I aren't making a sound as we run. Maybe, just maybe, we'll be able to grab the med kit and go. Maybe we'll get out of here alive.

But of course, there's no such thing as _maybe_ in the arena. Everything either happens or it doesn't. I'm able to grab the med kit, and I clutch it to my chest, ready to head back into the dense green and blue leaves of the tree when I see Gilza and Anson – a huge, buffed up Dracon who's skin is an even more sickening color than Lipra's – grappling. Gilza doesn't make a sound, but while she's pinned under him, she looks at me, and I can see what she needs to say in her eyes – _run_.

So I do. I take off back into the leaves of the tree, not caring who sees me. Gilza will probably keep Anson occupied, and with some luck, the other Careers will just think I'm some sort of tree dwelling creature. All I have to do is get to Ross and then leave this horrible, horrible tree. I stay close to the flat wooden arena where the dead bodies lie but not close enough to be in sight. I hide myself behind the leaves, hoping that I don't step on anything that might make a sound. If only I could have run back in the direction I came from, across the platform…

I doesn't take long for me to make it to the spot where Ross had disappeared in the shrubbery. I can see his blood on the ground. And although it's unnerving, I try to push it out of my mind. It's not dry yet, so I know that I didn't leave him _too_ long ago. Ten minutes, maybe? I told him to go up, so I'm hoping that's what he did. I spot blood on some of the vines and branches, and I know there's a likely chance that this tree continues upwards for a while, so that's what I count on – Ross having gone up. So I go up, too, even if it's just going to make the trip back down the tree even more gruesome in distance.

Before I can get started, though, I hear the leaves rustling behind me, and I turn around, clutching my daggers tight, even though I'm using one of my hands to hold the medical kit as well, so that hand is pretty much useless. At first, I'm afraid that it's a blood-thirsty Career who wants me dead, but it's just Ronom – the Cyclops who saved my life from Kipper – and his axe. Pleasant. "What are you _doing_ here?" I whisper, clutching at my med kit tighter. If he wants it, he's going to have to fight me for it.

"I follow you," he says, tilting his head. The big eye in the middle of his forehead is bright blue, as are his two "normal" eyes. He's got this blond hair that's cut pretty short to his head, and his hands are covered in dirt and blood. Not to be rude, but he looks like a big – albeit strong – five-year-old in his dad's army clothes. "You leader."

"What do you mean?" I ask, loosening my grip on everything I'm holding. Not enough to drop it, just enough so that my knuckles return to their _normal_ shade of pale. I had forgotten that the Cyclops really aren't all that smart – you can hear it in their dialogue. But really, it's not their fault – the Capitol programmed them that way so that they wouldn't complain about working in the coal mine all day and night. He and Gilza are both pretty buffed up, so I think it's safe to assume that they've worked many hours there.

"At interview. You lead us," he says, speaking of the interview as if it's tomorrow instead of yesterday.

I'm a little confused, but I get his point. I don't really want to spend too long debating this with him, so I just tell him to come along and be quiet. He nods his head eagerly and follows me. I figure that I can just ask him questions later, assuming that he isn't going to kill me first. We climb up the tree relatively quickly, even though I'm holding the med kit. I guess I got pretty used to the ropes in the training center, because for the most part, I'm singlehandedly using them to hoist myself up. Of course, I have to keep wrapping the vines around my wrist, which starts to cut off my circulation, but when that happens, I just find a good fork in a branch to sit on and unwind. I wonder _how_ Ross got up here – and how far he got. The blood trail is gone, but I'm still following what I'm assuming is the direction he went in. I don't have to wonder for long, though, because the next fork we rest at is fairly big, and I find Ross sitting in the middle of it, partially covered in his own blood. I think he's passed out.

"C'mon," I say to Ronom, who's still right behind me. "Help me with this." He doesn't ask me any questions, which I like. We remove the two weird looking weapons from Ross's hands and set them off to the side. I check his pulse, which is weak, but there. Then I look at the wound and examine it. It's only along his upper left arm, so I don't think he's going to die. It is, however, pretty deep, and it looks like he's lost a lot of blood. When I open the medical kit, I look for some stuff to swab the wound with, and I find it. I wish I had water to help, but my canteen is empty. I have Ronom check his bag for one, but his is empty, too. And then very carefully, we pulled off Ross's bag, but _his_ canteen is empty as well. Great. So I just end up using my spit, which is supposed to have magical healing qualities – just like the rest of us. Unfortunately, though, I don't think we can resurrect ourselves from the dead. Once that cannon goes off, it's over.

Ronom tries to use some of his spit too, and while I tell him that it's a nice thought, his spit isn't going to work. He looks sad at first, but he quickly gets over it. Once the wound is sufficiently clean, I start to swab it with alcohol, and then I wrap it in the bandage the med kit provided me with. Once I deem it acceptable, we sit Ross up. "Ok," I tell Ronom, and he listens eagerly. I could get used to this. "First thing's first. We need to look through _all_ of our bags to see what we have. We already know that we have to find a water source. Let's see how much food we've got." He nods, and we begin our counting.

In the end, we come up with three bags, three empty canteens, three blankets, two rolls of duct tape (for what, I couldn't possible imagine), two small containers of iodine (for water purification), a jacket (that can only fit Ross or me), a pair of sunglasses (the kind for seeing in the dark, I'm sure), a fishing line, some rope, a cooking pot, armor (that fits Ronom perfectly), gloves, some spare clothing of various sizes, food (crackers, dried meats, etc… enough to last at least two or three days if eaten carefully), some little baggies, a very deadly piece of plastic, and a medical kit. Wonderful. At least _now_ I know that I didn't go back to get one for nothing. As far as weapons, we've got my twenty-_one_ shuriken (I was close), twelve throwing knives, three daggers, Ronom's axe, and Ross's two sickle-mace things. It looks like we got a pretty good haul, actually. Accept that the Careers probably have twice this much considering that there are five of them. Or more, is someone got accepted into the Career pack. God, I _hope_ someone didn't get accepted into the Career pack… We already have enough troubles as it is.

"The first thing we need to do," I tell Ronom as we haul our stuff back into the bags, "is get out of this tree. We should probably try to pick up some fruits and berries on the way down. Do_ not_ eat _anything_ you find unless I say it's ok."

"Yes, Ma'am," he says, and I smile.

"Ronom, you don't have to call me Ma'am. Avi will do just fine."

He looks down shyly. "Yes, Ma'am." I can't help but smile a little more. I have the feeling that Ronom's going to grow on me – and quickly. And yet I _know_ that that's not something to smile about.

"Can you grab Ross and take him down the tree?" Ronom nods and picks Ross up with ease, along with the two sickle-mace things. "Just make sure he doesn't hit his head or something… he's had enough damage for today." It's kind of sad to look at him and see him so peacefully passed out. I mean, Ross is a good guy, and he doesn't deserve this… I shake my head to clear it. No, I don't need to be thinking about what _should_ have happened. I need to think about what _is_ happening because as long as he has a pulse, he's still alive. Tonight, if his face isn't in the sky, he's alive. And tomorrow, if his cannon doesn't go off, he's alive. And that's all I really _need _to know.

Ronom and I start our hike down the big tree, and for me, it's much easier this time since I shoved the medical kit into my bag. I can pretty much climb and slide down the vibrant green vines with ease, but it's taking Ronom longer to get down, what with Ross on his shoulders and all. I have to keep slowing down to wait for him, but for the most part, I really don't mind. As long as everyone who's made it to the ground is still moving, and the Careers are still at the Cornucopia, we're making decent time. And Ronom isn't even complaining! He's just hiking down the tree with a big dopey smile on his face. Even if he _is_ slow, so what? It balances out.

When we make it to where the Careers should be, I stop. I motion for Ronom to stop, too, because I want to check on them. If all of them are there, we should have a safe climb back down. If not, then we have a new issue to face. I tell Ronom to stay right where he is, and I vine swing towards the trunk of the tree. It's dangerous, and I almost miss the vines a few times, but it's not that hard to get the hang of. Ok, well, it _is,_ but knowing that I'll die if I fall is a pretty good incentive. I have to climb up a few branches, too, but I make it to where the Cornucopia is located. I carefully look through the bushes, trying my best not to be spotted. I see the five Careers – two Felpurr, two Dracon, and one Trynnie – along with another tribute, a Mook. I think his name is Corrik, but I'm not entirely sure. I think he's a part of the Career pack, too, though, and that's enough to assure me that I don't _care_ what his name is.

Well, at least they haven't split into groups yet. I mean, the bloodbath could have only been an hour ago at most, so they're probably working on setting up camp and whatnot.

The only problem happens when my eyes come up and meet the evil yellow eyes of Kipei, one of my two least favorite murderous cat-people. Her eyes sharpen, and I see her whispering something to Lipra, who is standing right next to her. Lipra turns around, and suddenly I'm staring at both of them. _Crap_…

So I make a run for it. I turn around, and start running as fast as I can along the tree wide tree branch I'm on. I shove the vines out of my way this time because I know that I wouldn't be able to last on them. My hands would get rope burn, and Kipei would probably just cut the vines as I'm trying to slide down them. So no – I just run. Hopefully I'll have the advantage, since I know where I'm running back to more or less. I run out to the edge of this tree branch, and if I'm right, Ronom is going to be my only hope. He hasn't let me down so far, but that doesn't mean he isn't going to. _Stupid trust…_ I _hate_ that I have to trust the boy I met only an hour ago, but that's pretty much what this all boils down to. Get eaten alive my Careers or trust Ronom. And I definitely know which of those options leads to _certain_ death…

I can hear the leaves scattering behind me, but I don't dare to look back. I can just see Kipei running after me on all fours, and right next to her, Lipra, yielding her bow and arrows. I'm surprised she hasn't shot at me yet. Then again, I can't really get a good shot with my shuriken when I'm running, and I don't even know how good she is with a bow. But if she was the one who shot the arrows into the target at the training center, then I'm guessing that she's pretty good. And that's incentive to run _faster. _

Soon enough, the vines start to thin out, and I'm faced with mostly leaves and other branches. I can hear the vicious threats coming from behind me, but I ignore them and push through. I notice a branch lower than me – _much_ lower than me – has Ronom standing on it. _Yes_. That must be where I started. "Ronom!" I call, and he looks up at me immediately. "Catch!" And with that, I jump.

_I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I_

**Author's Note:**

**:D Well, I hope you liked that. I've never even **_**tried**_** to write an action scene before – the closest thing I've done is Avi's ninja-skills last chapter. xD This really didn't go as expected, but I definitely like how it turned out! :D **

**First and foremost, I wanna thank Twirlgirl821 for giving me a summary. Yes, I did tweak it some, but I really liked it – the beginning especially! :D So in honor of your summary, the female tribute from Planet 9 (Rawulf) is now named Twilgi. :D  
>Next, I wanna say thanks to BabyBeaver – I'm so glad that you like Avi! :D I think she's pretty epic myself… ;D<br>ChaosUmbrella, I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations! This took a LOT of planning to do! xD  
>To tributegirl, I must say thank you on the realistic comment! I'm trying to keep it pretty realistic, so… I'm glad it's working! :D <strong>

**Alright, so… this chapter took a LOT of planning, surprisingly. I've planned out all the Career's weapons and stuff, along with Avi's team's, and everyone else's (like Riso's, Janeesa's, so on and so forth…). I've also got all the alliances and what not, AND the death order. But of course, that can always be subject to change… ;D (Like, if a lot of people REALLY want one character to be the winner or live longer, that can be arranged!) :D I've also been playing around with an idea, and I wanna hear your take on it: You see, in **_**every**_** first-person story I've read, the person telling the story **_**always**_** wins. Well, what if it doesn't happen like that? How would you guys feel if maybe Ross won? Or Nakine? Or some other random tribute? I just want to see how I should end this(: (when it's time, of course! xD)**

**-QOTB-**


	11. Frustrated

**QUEENOFTHEBUTTERFLIES**  
><span>GALACTIC GAMES<span>  
><em>FRUSTRATED<em>

* * *

><p>That day when I fell out of the tree… I felt like I was flying. Even if it was just for a few seconds before I hit the ground, I thought that I was going to grow wings and soar. This time, it's different – it's completely and utterly <em>terrifying<em>. Even though I can see Ronom ready to catch me, I can't help but have the sinking feeling that he won't.

And while I'm fretting about _that_, I hear something behind me – something that sounds suspiciously like and arrow tearing through the sky. And then I feel a sharp pain in my shoulder right afterwards. My head snaps back to look, only to see a few bloody pieces of my own flesh flying around… oh, and an _arrow_ lodged in my shoulder. At that, I scream. I don't care if the other Careers can hear me – it hurts. A _lot_. There's a bloody _arrow_ in my shoulder!

However, my scream is cut short when my gut makes contact with Ronom's heavily armed shoulder. I feel the impulse to gasp as my breath is knocked out of me, but it's hopeless. I can't seem to get any air to come me; I feel like I'm drowning, except I'm not submerged in water. My lungs want to explode, and no matter how hard I try, I can't help them get the oxygen they need. My vision starts to go blurry, and I can barely hear a thing. The threats of the two Career girls are all jumbled up into one big voice that's speaking nothing but gibberish. The ground beneath me is moving, but I'm not walking. Everything fades into a pale grey, and then goes black.

**(-*****-****)(-*****-****)(-*****-****)(-*****-****)(-*****-****)****(-*****-****)(-*****-****)(-*****-****)(-*****-****)(-*****-****)****(-*****-****)(-*****-****)(-*****-****)(-*****-****)(-*****-****)**

When I wake up, the first thing I do is reach for my head. I notice that there's a resistance in my shoulder, so I look at it, only to find it crudely bandaged up. I remember being chased by Careers and jumping out of a tree, but nothing else, so I'm not exactly sure _why_ I'm bandaged up. I decide to sit up and look around. I'm in a small wooden cave. The floor space is maybe ten by seven, and I think that the "roof" is only about seven or eight feet up. It's tiny, but it's roomy enough for me. I look out of the make-shift living space and see that's it quite dark outside. _How long have I been out?_

I'm guessing not too long since I can see that Ross is still unconscious. Maybe a few hours? That is, if it's evening. And I'm assuming that it's evening because Ronom isn't anywhere in sight. If it was early morning, he would probably be sleeping. At least I hope he would be. Because I know _I_ would be.

I slowly pull myself up into a standing position. It's a little painful on my shoulder, and my legs are actually pretty sore, too. Maybe it's from all the running I did today – I don't think I've ever run that much before. Not even when I was trying to get away from Old Man Piro's shop after I stole a loaf of bread. That old man could run faster than I thought.

I hear the anthem of Panem start to play, so I shake all thoughts of Old Man Piro out of my mind. I walk out of the cave and notice that I'm still in the tree. The cave must have been a lucky indent that Ronom came across. I look down, but all I see is a multitude of branches and leaves – the usual sight, I'm guessing. I can't see the ground.

I take a few more steps out onto the branch, which can fit at least five of me in a row, and stop. I hear one cannon fire, and I look up at the sky and see the face of Jempe, the male Trynnie tribute. He's got this dark brown fur with a few light colored patches. I guess in a way, the Trynnies are kind of like rodents. Their faces and fur more or less remind me of gerbils.

To the right of his picture is some (very little) information about him. _Jempe Clupo of Planet 4, killed by Gilza Neddle_. Under that, there's a small – but definitely recognizable – picture of Gilza. I remember turning around to find her standing behind me with Jempe dead at my feet. He _died_ trying to kill me. So does that make his death indirectly my fault?

Jempe's face disappears, and I hear a second cannon. His face is replaced by a different face – a face that has been permanently engraved into my mind. _Eela Tres of Planet 6, killed by Avoria Maydel._ I can't help but think of how Eela looked when I attacked her – she looked so surprised, like she wasn't expecting anyone to come after the Droid girl from six. I remember the horror in her eyes when I held up my dagger. She knew that she was going to die – but she still couldn't believe it. She didn't have time to think any last thoughts that she wanted to think – she was dead by the time she wanted to think them. And yet in her picture, she's so full of life. She's smiling, and she looks like she means it, too. Her dark hair is pulled back into a bun, leaving just a few pieces to frame her face. And even though her skin is grey, it appears to be full of spirit. She had a _life_. And I _took_ it from her. Maybe someone else would be able to justify my actions – it's the Hunger Games; I was defending Ross; it would have happened eventually. Yeah, maybe someone _else_ would be able to say those things, but for some reason… I can't. I can't justify what I did to that girl. I stabbed her right through the _heart_ – the _heart_ for goodness' sake! I could have just kept her pinned down and told Ross to run. I could have let her go with just a threat. I could have… There are _so_ many things that I could've done but didn't. And because of that, I feel a fresh set of tears building back behind my eyes – tears for what I _could_ have done; tears for Eela's life. It stings to keep them there, so I bite my lip and simply let them fall.

_Pral Lome of Planet 6, killed by Xion Keilht._ I vaguely remember seeing Xion pounce on a boy. Was that Pral? Was he murdered for nothing else than to _just be_ murdered? I feel a strong burst of hate engulfing me; hate for people like Xion, who don't kill because they_ have_ to. Hate for people like Xion, who kill because they _want_ to. And yet somewhere in my hate I manage to wonder… am _I_ like Xion?

_Viva Dorall of Planet 7, killed by Kipei Matlh._ I saw her. I may have only seen her once, but I suppose it was the last time _anyone_ saw her – I saw her as she died. She died over a bag and a pack of crackers. Let me repeat: a _bag_ and a pack of _crackers_ – both of which could have been found in abundance around the Cornucopia. Another killed just to be killed?

_Tiko Swas of Planet 8, killed by Ashaba Morsi_. He must have been the one I stole my daggers from… the one who's dead body I overturned; the one who's blood is on my hands. I look down at my palms, which are a mixture of light red and dark pink. It looks like I'm wearing gloves… gloves made of _blood_.

_Tora Wilbin of Planet 8, killed by Lipra Mir_. The girl who got shot with an arrow. The girl who was trying to get away but couldn't. Yet another girl who was killed for _nothing_. I let a tear fall for Tora.

_Kipper Jax of Planet 9, killed by Ronom Tunre._ The Rawulf. He's the one who tried to prevent me from getting my shuriken… I know that Ronom tackled him. I never really saw what happened after that, but I guess I know how it ended… Is he _another_ person who died indirectly because of me? Another person whose _life_ was taken because my actions had consequences? Three-eyed consequences, to be precise?

_Lias Flock of Planet 11, killed by Gilza Neddle_. Hobbit boy. I have to admit, even though he tripped me, he didn't deserve his fate. He wanted to kill me – I could tell by the look in his eyes. I _wanted_ to, but he wouldn't have been able to. Not even if he had tried, now that I think about it. All he had was a staff – nothing more than a long, smoothed out stick! What was he going to _do_? Bludgeon me to death with it? And yet he died just like Kipper and Jempe, who were _actual_ threats to my life. Why did he even try? Did he want to impress the Careers by taking out some of their main competition? Was he an _idiot?_ Is it _wrong_ for me to think this way of a boy who _died_ because of _me_? I let a few more tears fall for Lias.

I don't know where my head is. I'm sad, and frustrated, and angry, and… and… I don't know what to do. I pull a handful of leaves off of the nearest small branch, and I chuck them down into oblivious. I let out some sort of frustrated sob as I do so, and it's only now that I realize how much I _want_ to sob – how much I want my _mom_. And I've never wanted my mom for comfort – I always thought that she wouldn't give it to me. But I would have gone to her... if only I had known...

Now I'm just plain frustrated. I'm frustrated at my mom for not revealing Brick's condition sooner; I'm frustrated at Hanya for pulling my damn name at the reaping; I'm frustrated at the Capitol for creating the Hunger Games, and I'm frustrated at the Hunger Games for making me frustrated.

And then the final face shines up in the sky, and the last cannon of the night goes off, bringing me out of my frustration – and into even more depression. I feel my stomach acids heaving inside me, and I put my hand on my abdomen, hoping to calm it somehow, but it's no use. There's nothing I can to do stop the vomit that's coming, or the words in the sky from being true. _Gilza Neddle of Planet 12, killed by Anson Char_. I fall to my knees, not caring about the pain that spikes through by legs as they land on the hard wooden surface. I lean over the edge of the branch, feeling the hot burn on the back of my throat as I puke. My stomach twists in horrible knots, and I cringe was I'm forced to smell and taste my regret. She tried to _protect_ me – that's all she was doing. _Helping_ me – and I left her! I _left_ her there to face _Anson_ – the brute of the Career pack. I left her there! "I _left_ her! I left her there to _die!_

I hit the side of the branch with my fist, clutching my eyes shut. They sting with salty tears. "_Why?"_ I shriek, grabbing onto the edges. _"Why?_ Why did I _do_ it! Why is everybody _dying_?" My sobs are sick and muddled. I have to push myself away from the edge of the branch as my body shivers with uncontrollable sobs. It's the _first_ day. It's the _first freakin' day_, and I can't even control myself. I want to scream at myself, tell myself to stop crying, but I can't. All I can do is hold my stomach and curl over, just in case I need to throw up again. All I can do is scream.

And that's how Ronom finds me – bent over and sitting on my knees, sobbing and screaming. He doesn't say a word as he picks me up with both arms, holding me like a child. He carries me back inside the cave and sets me down on the floor. He grabs one of out three blankets all pulls it up over me, leaving me to cuddle up as I wish. If I could form a coherent sentence, I might thank him.

Instead, I just continue to curl up with the blanket, and I don't even realize that I've fallen asleep until I wake up. The sun is blaring through the huge opening of the cave, and I find myself squinting to see anything. I sit up immediately, pressing my hand to my pillow for support. It's wet – I must have been crying in my sleep. Or drooling.

Once my eyes adjust, I take a look around the cave. The first thing I realize is that Ross is nowhere to be seen; he's gone.

_I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I_

**Author's Note:**

**I just remembered… I think I have COMPLETELY forgotten all disclaimers! :O So I might want to get started on that… xD First off, I don't own ****The Hunger Games**** or any references I might make to it (such as this entire story line in general! xD). I don't own **_**Wizardry 8**_**, which is a totally awesome game. Due to that, I don't own the following species: Felpurr, Dracon, Trynnie, Mook, and Rawulf. And I'm **_**pretty**_** sure that **_**Wizardry 8**_** doesn't own **_**these**_** species: Elf, Faerie (or any spelling variations – this is just the **_**Wizardry**_** spelling variation!), Droid (short for Androids), Gnome, Dwarf, Hobbit, and Cyclops. Cyclops aren't even **_**in Wizardry**_**… Also, I don't own **_**Star Trek**_**, which is where some of the ideas (holographic stuff, transporters, ships…) came from. I think that should be it. O.o**

**Also, a super-duper-special thanks goes to my un-official (but totally official) new consultant, Chrissie DeKourson! And that last sentence sounded lamer than I thought, but oh, well! Anyways, she's helping me keep everything on track and whatnot, and giving me some super ideas to throw in here! And she's helping me develop my own ideas as well. Heck, I get new ones by just messaging her. I hope this lived up to your expectations, Chrissie! xD I also think that now is a good time to mention (to everyone!) that things aren't always what you think they are… interpret that in your own way! ;D **

**The arena chapters are going to be shorter (but action-packed! …mostly), so as a compromise, I'm going to make the Author's Notes shorter as well. My shout-outs will pretty much go like this:**

**THANK YOU TO / CHECK OUT THE STORIES OF THESE PEOPLE:  
>tributegirl<br>Twirlgirl821 **

**Short, yes, and kinda blunt, but… you guys STILL deserve a mention. ALSO! That Talking Heads song I mentioned? It was Psycho Killer(: Avi says something about how Ross **_**probably**_** isn't a dangers psycho killer, but she can't be sure! xD **

**FINALLY… since this is going to be the longest note for a while… :D Fix all my mistakes. xD And… how do you guys think you would feel with a few perspective changes? I mean, the story would still **_**mainly**_** be from Avi's, but maybe to spice it up a little, we could hear from a Career and/or another random person or whatever… Opinions? If you wanna see it done, perspective(s) from whom…?**

**WAIT! WAIT! THAT WASN'T IT!  
>R.I.P for the Following Tributes:<br>_Jempe Clupo  
>Eela Tres<br>Pral Lome  
>Viva Dorall<br>Tiko Swas  
>Tora Wilbin<br>Kipper Jax  
>Lias Flock<br>Gilza Neddle (who will, in my opinion, be missed the most)_**

**-QOTB-**


	12. Story Telling

**QUEENOFTHEBUTTERFLIES**  
><span>GALACTIC GAMES<span>  
><em>STORY TELLING<em>

* * *

><p><em>*- Avoria Maydel -*<em>

Now I'm definitely wide awake. The spot where Ross was sleeping is just empty floor space now – not even his blanket is there. My slouching has changed to a somewhat erect state of sitting. I look over at the bags, and I find that there are only two. I immediately crawl over to see which bag is missing, although I really don't suppose it matters – they all have pretty much the same thing.

When I look through the bags, I find more than I should. We've got the jacket, the sunglasses, the fishing line, the rope… anything we only had one of, we've got. But one of the iodine containers is missing, as well as a roll of duct tape, an extra pair of socks and a shirt, and a little bit of food. _Maybe he packed light for hunting_, I tell myself, and it seems to make enough sense. If Ross went hunting, than he definitely wouldn't want too much stuff crowding his bag.

_Why do you even care?_ The thought hits me instantly. _You have everything you need, and now you don't have to lug him around. It's the perfect solution!_

Except it's not. I can't name what it is, but something just feels… _off_ about this entire thing. Maybe he's hunting. Maybe he left. I don't know… What I _do_ know is that my stomach in making the rumblies, and this dried meat looks _really_ good… So I guess I'll just sit it out – the whole Ross thing, that is. After Ronom wakes up, we can stay here another hour. If Ross doesn't show, than he's left us. It's as simple as that.

I grab some of the meat and head outside. Maybe some sunshine will do me good. I'm too pale, anyways. My legs are only a little soar after a nice long sleep, and even though my shoulder's still pretty stiff, it's completely tolerable.

It's pretty bright outside, but by now, my eyes have adjusted. The leaves don't look as vibrant today as they did yesterday, but maybe that's just me. Birds are singing, and I think I hear a few squirrels or two running around. In all truth, it's beautiful, even if it _is_ the Hunger Games.

_Hunger_… that's when I'm thinking about when I feel a furry hand cover my mouth.

_*- Massika Krabbitin -*_

"Who's that behind Avoria?" I ask, squinting at a screen as I enter Planet 8's filming room.

"I… don't know," Jobain admits. "It definitely looks like a Mook though. What are Planet 7's contributors' names…?"

"Didn't you bother to look it up?" But I do it anyways. On the back wall, there is a list with the names of the tributes. The dead ones are in red, and the live ones are in green. How… unoriginal.

"Sorry," he mumbles, but he doesn't mean it. I can tell by his tone.

I snort. "Corrik Desso," I tell him. Then I walk over to my seat. This doesn't look good – not in the least. First, she had to have a melt-down, which, sure enough, lost her a good bit of sponsors. And now she's about to get herself killed. And I thought she might be able to survive. Foolish. Both of us.

"What's he saying?" Jobain interrupts my thoughts.

"Shh!" I snap, turning up the speaker. "Let me listen."

"_Don't go hunting for Beltross. Grab your Cyclops, your food, your weapons… and leave. Head for actual ground, and don't stop until you reach it."_

"Is that a _gun_ he's poking at her back!"

"Crudely crafted. With power equivalent of a sling and stone," I answer hastily. "Shh."

"_We're both going to count to twenty. I'd recommend going slowly because if you get there before I do, I'll shoot you. And I really don't want to have to shoot you."_

Avoria nods her head slowly. _She should have brought a weapon with her_, I think to myself. _You bring a weapon *everywhere*_. I supposed she'll learn now. At least she caught a lucky break – most of the other tributes wouldn't have hesitated to kill her.

I wouldn't have.

_*- Ronom Tunre -*_

It is bright outside. Ronom does not like bright. Bright hurts Ronom's eyes. Putting blanket over eyes keeps bright out, but Leader Avi does not like blanket. She tells Ronom to get up, so Ronom gets up. Leader Avi says Ross is missing. Ronom looks for Ross, but Ross not there. Ross is missing.

Ronom asks Leader Avi where Ross went. Leader Avi does not know.

Ronom is sad. Ross was going to be Ronom's best friend. Now Ronom has no best friend. Ronom tells this to Leader Avi, and Leader Avi smiles. But Leader Avi's smile is sad. Ronom does not understand how smiles can be sad.

Leader Avi says Ross had to leave. She does not know where.

Ronom wonders where Ross went. Ronom asks if Ross is dead. Leader Avi says Ross is not dead.

Ronom is not sure he believes Leader Avi.

_*- Avoria Maydel -*_

Ronom and I have a quick breakfast, and then we throw on our backpacks and prepare to get ready hike down the tree. It goes pretty fast now that Ronom doesn't have to carry Ross – or me, for that matter. I ask him what happened to my shoulder, and he said that one of the Careers shot me with an arrow. I figure that it was probably Lipra.

We don't make much conversation while we're climbing, but that's fine with me. Ronom is able to jump from branch to branch whereas I have to keep using the vines. I'm terrified that I'm going to fall, but I think that if I do, Ronom will catch me. Apparently, he's pretty good with at catching falling Elves.

The sun is beating down on us, so it's _really _hot. I have to keep wiping sweat off my face, but at least we're hidden under a bunch of leaves and stuff. A lot of patches of light shine through, but nothing particularly big. I'm sure that if there was a big one, we'd get even hotter. And to make it better, there are no breezes, either. I keep wishing for a little breeze. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn't. I'm not sure if it's the Capitol or part of the whole Elf-elements-thing, but it's nice when it happens.

After about six or seven hours of climbing, I convince Ronom to take a break. He really doesn't look all that tired – probably because all the mine work he does keeps him in ridiculously good shape – but I'm completely exhausted. And hungry.

We eat some more of the dried meat and crackers, which makes me _really_ wish we had some water. The best I can do is to squeeze some of the juice out of the fruits and berries we found earlier. They don't give us much, but it's all we've got.

After about another hour of climbing, Ronom, who has maintained a fair distance below me, yells up that he can see the ground. I ask him if I can see any water, and he says no. I sigh. We're really going to need water if we're going to continue at this pace, but I suppose being able to see the ground is a pretty good start.

After I get further down the tree, I can see the ground, too. I have to squint to make anything out, and it doesn't look very promising. It looks rocky and dusty, and it offers no protection from the sun. However, there _are_ an abnormal amount of cactuses growing. And cactuses can hold water, right? Maybe we'll be able to squeeze some out of them.

I feel relieved when my feet touch the ground. It feels so good to finally be walking instead of climbing. It takes a minute or two to get used to it, but after I do, it's nice.

Ronom and I notice that some of the cactuses have had their limbs cut off. I'm guessing that some of the other tributes got the same idea. I use my dagger to cut off some of the shorter cactus limbs, and I try not to get my hands jabbed in the process. It's really a pointless precaution to take considering that I get jabbed _anyways_, but I'm sure that I'd get jabbed more if I grabbed of ahold of the thing and tried to twist it off. As long as it's not poisonous, I'll be fine.

Ronom takes the pieces I cut off and pulls all the pricks off of them. Then he squeezes their juices into the canteen. He gets very little juice off of each piece, and I doubt that the juice is very healthy, but hey. It's what we've got. It takes us near an hour just to fill _one_ canteen. And every ten minutes, we have to take a break under the tree before we get too hot. Something tells me that one or both of us will have sunburn by the time we're done with this.

Once we finally manage to get both of the canteens filled, we leave. I would take a few cactus pieces with me, but I don't know if you can preserve the water of a cactus, and I really don't want to try. I'd be too tempted to drink it, and what if it's got containments? We put some iodine drops in the canteens. It says to wait at least and hour before attempting to drink the water. I would say screw it, except this time, if I end up almost killing myself, Falah won't be around to help.

We walk another hour, the weather getting cooler and cooler with every passing minute. It'll probably be freezing by nightfall.

Ronom and I both try a sip of our drinks. It tastes kind of like water, but worse. I don't know if it's because of the fact that it's _cactus_ water or because we might not have given the iodine enough time to take affect, so I try to have as few sips as possible. Ronom does the same. He seems far more prepared for this than I am. He may refer to himself in third person, but he's got me totally beat when it comes to strength and stamina. I guess together, we make a pretty good time. Brains and brawns sort of thing, except I wouldn't exactly consider myself 'brainy'… just impatient.

I'm about to ask Ronom if we can take another break when I see something gleaming in the distance. I squint again, and unless I'm hallucinating, it looks _blue_. Like… water. At first, I'm a little angry; Ronom and I spent _all_ that time trying to get water from cactuses when we only had to walk an hour and a half to find a stream? I point it out to Ronom, but he's not angry. In fact, he seems really happy about it. Ronom says that he's never seen so much water at once. I ask him if there was a river where he came from, but he doesn't even know what I was talking about. I promise Ronom that we'll make a stop at the river. As if I'm going to pass _this_ up.

When we're in range of hearing the river, I can't help but let all of my angry feelings go. It sounds so peaceful and serene; so beautiful… I start to wonder if maybe there are Sirens or something that want to seduce us into death. I knock the thought out of my head – there are no such things as Sirens. But still…

Ronom thinks that we should dump the cactus juice out, but I'm not so sure. We _did_ spend a long time trying to get it… But Ronom empties his anyways, and I can't help but feel jealous as he scoops fresh water into his canteen. In the end, I just dump mine and get some, too. I take a few hesitant sips from the steam, and I'm surprised that it's actually _fresh_ water. I thought it would be salt water. I smile. "This'll be perfect for a quick bath…" I say. I ask Ronom if he minds, and he says that he doesn't. I ask him if he wants one, and he says no. I shrug and peel off my clothes. Ronom sits on a rock as I take a quick bath/swim.

The water is deep, so my feet don't touch the ground. I try to see how deep I can swim, but I can only get so far before my ears start to hurt. Shortly after that, my lungs start to hurt. But once I start to swim back up, I notice something even more dangerous – something that looks suspiciously like a shark. And it's swimming towards _me_.

_I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I_

**Author's Note:**

**Alright! Another chapter! ;D I messed around with the POVs some, but it will *mostly* be told in Avi's. I think I wanna use 'em to help tell the story, like I did, here. Do you guys have any specific people you wanna hear from? Oh, and by the way, there are freshwater sharks, but they're not really related to sharks all that well… But this is the Hunger Games! These are special sharks! ;D Oh, and I really have no idea whether you can squirt water out of cactuses or not. Let's just go with it! ;D **

**THANK YOU TO/CHECK OUT THE STORIES OF THESE PEOPLE:  
>Bumblebee27<br>Chrissie DeKourson (*consultant!)  
>tributegirl<br>Twirlgirl821  
>BabyBeaver<br>ChaosUmbrella**

**-QOTB-**


	13. Giant Lumpy Rock

**QUEENOFTHEBUTTERFLIES **  
><span>GALACTIC GAMES<span>  
><em>GIANT LUMPY ROCK<em>

* * *

><p><em>*- Quill Harem -*<em>

"It'll all be taken care of, Optum. You know I've got connections. You'll have your job back in no time," I assure him. "Giella owns me a favor, anyways…" I smile, thinking back to the blackmail I've got on _Mrs. _President. Oh, what a few glasses of wine will do to a woman…

"Thanks," he says, patting me on my shoulder. I look at my shoulder disdainfully – I hope some of his filth hasn't gotten on me. "I owe you one."

"You owe me _many_," I say. From the corner of my eye, I see the little blue light going off on my monitor. "Now go, go. I've got Games to watch and tributes to kill."

"Yes, Sir. Of course, Sir," Optum answers, bowing to me as gracefully as he knows how. Ignorant fool. He couldn't bow to save his life. I shut my door in his face, and then I head over to my monitor. It looks like my shark has been released – someone must be swimming. My shark has verified their coordinates, so I take a look. It's the Elf girl – the one that got Optum fired. Oh, this is _too_ good. I need something _special_ for this child – a shark just won't do. Ever since that man got fired, he's been all over me about getting his job back. He's quite a nuisance. And who do I have to thank for it? _Avoria Maydel_.

Luckily, I've got something I can use. My shark will just serve as a distraction while I ready my _real_ weapon.

I turn to a different monitor and open up the specifications for my sea creature – a beautiful example of a monster that I like to call Nessie. It took me almost a year to get her just right. Now it's time for a test run.

I command the shark to swim circles around the girl – she wouldn't _dare_ move while cornered with a shark, would she? Regardless, I still have to hurry. The last thing I need is for her to die from lack of oxygen – a very _boring_ death that would be. No; it _must_ be Nessie.

I release the docking clamps on my baby and lock her onto the proper coordinates. So long, Ms. Maydel.

_*- Jobain Mivik -*_

Something on the screen catches my eye. "Hey!" I say, sitting up. "What is _that_!"

"What is _what_?" Massika asks, looking at me with her cold blue eyes. I have to wonder; has she _ever_ smiled at me? Yeah – maybe once. Before she won the Games.

"_That_," I say again, pointing to something on the monitor. Somewhere behind Avi, it looks like a sea cave of some sort is opening up. I can't see anything inside it, though, even if these screens _are_ high definition. It's just too dark.

"How should I know?" she mutters, but she leans in closer anyways. Both of us are trying to identify what it could be; whatever it is, it _definitely_ can't be good. In the Hunger Games, nothing good _ever_ comes out of shadows.

It looks like some sort of giant lumpy rock at first, and then I realize that it's attached to a neck. "Holy…"

"We need to get her out of there," Massika says, pushing her chair back. She runs over to the back wall and presses a giant green button – our sponsor donations.

"How much do we have?" I ask, following her.

"Less than we would if she hadn't cried," she sneers, but I ignore it. "About fifteen hundred."

"Damn Hunger Games prices… Can that get a waterproof communicator and least a minute's worth of talking time?"

"Barely. Give me her coordinates." I run to the monitor, identify the coordinates, and read them off to her. She frantically searches through the list of gifts we're allowed to give, and when she finds it, she presses it, watches our money go down, and runs to the seat next to me.

If there's one thing I can say about the Capitol, it's that they're _amazingly_ fast. We watch a little rocket plunge down next to Avi with a bag tied to it. She looks confused until she realizes that it must be us. I bet she's hoping for an air supply.

The second she has the communicator out, Massika grabs a little speaker and starts talking. "Avoria, I know that you can't talk, but you're going to have to listen. Jobain and I need you to turn around."

She hesitates for a bit, and I can nearly see the veins in Massika's neck start to bulge. Just as she's about to yell, Avi turns around, and her eyes go wide. "I don't think the shark will attack you," Massika says, looking down at her watch. "It's a distraction. We need you to swim to the other side of the river, away from Ronom's side. Use the rope to get him over later. Right now, you need to get out of there."

She nods, and then looks back at the shark, eying it. "Avoria!"

She starts swimming.

_*- Avoria Maydel -*_

There's a very unpleasant four-letter f-word running through my mind. This is _insane_. Totally and completely insane. If this shark comes after me, I'm _totally_ going to blame Massika for this. That is, if I _live_, which is highly doubtful.

She yells at me, so I start moving. The shark, however, keeps swimming in circles. It's kind of creepy.

I feel like my lungs are going to explode, but that's the _least_ of my worries. Right now, my worries pretty much center around the _giant SEA MONSTER_ that wants to eat me. Oh, this day couldn't get any better, could it? Careers, and cactuses, and sea monsters, oh my…

Stupid river. It's too wide – rivers shouldn't be this wide. My arms and legs are starting to get tired, and they just feel like they're weighing me down more than they're helping me. Massika has stopped talking, so I'm assuming I'm doing whatever it is that I'm supposed to be doing. I can feel the water slowly getting warmer, and I see it getting lighter, so I'm guessing that I'm getting nearer to the surface. I _better_ be; I'm not sure how much more of this I can take.

I don't want to turn around. If I turn around, I'll probably see the shark swimming towards me. Although it really seems like it would have gotten me by now. Maybe just a peak…

No! It's following me! Dammit! No! And I thought I was home free… But no, I don't have time to think about that; I just have to swim _faster_.

I feel something sharp pierce my foot, and it makes me wish I had shoes on. Or clothes in general – that would be nice. I look down and see the shark. _Of course…_ If I could scream, I would, but I settle for frantically kicking it in the face. Had it been a real shark, that probably would have been enough. But no – this is a freakin' mutt shark. It doesn't _have_ a real nose for me to kick.

_Four-letter f-word…_ I'm _so_ close. If I can just get this thing off me…

Luckily for me, a piece of seaweed swims by. I grab it and try to whip the shark with it. It doesn't work very well considering that we're in water… But it _does_ briefly distract it… I grab the other end of the seaweed with my other hand, and then I position it just under the shark's mouth. I go slowly, as if I'm trying to tie up a dog's mouth. A very big, very sharp toothed dog. If a shark can look confused, than this one most certainly does. I quickly pull it up and tie it in a knot. Now I've just gotta swim for it.

It's struggling behind me, and I know that it'll only take a second to break through, but maybe that second will be enough…

The surface is approaching, and I'm swimming as fast as I can. The edge of the river is getting nearer and nearer, and it's only a matter of seconds before I can breathe.

My head rises above the water, and I gasp for air. I only have to swimming about another meter and then hoist myself up… I grab onto the ground, and it nearly burns my hands because it's so hot. I ignore it for now, and I pull myself up, getting my feet onto the shores _just_ as the shark crashes below me.

There's no sign of the sea monster.

I bend over, clutching my stomach and taking deep breaths. I spit water out of my mouth and shake off my body. When I look across the river, I can see Ronom quite far down it on the other side. How far did I swim, anyways? I guess people in a panic aren't very observant. I'm certainly not. I wave, and he waves back, seemingly happy. Then again, _he's_ not the one that nearly got mauled by a shark.

I would walk down the river, but it's too hot, so I run. I'm still out of breath, but at least _this_ time, I can get oxygen. Oh, how I've missed it…

It doesn't take too long for me to be across the river from Ronom. It's not until I stop that I realize I'm still gripping the communicator.

I press the button on the side. "Hello?"

No answer. Then again, I really didn't expect one. Oh, well…

"Hey, Ronom!" I call. "Toss me the rope!"

_I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I_

**Author's Note: **

**The way you guys wished me well just made me so happy that I sucked it up and wrote a chapter. I know that's it short, but you deserve **_**something**_**… And my ant bites are healing nicely, thank you! ;D They still itch/burn/string like hello, though… O.o Lemme know if you see any mistakes! ;D **

**THANK YOU TO/CHECK OUT THE STORIES OF THESE PEOPLE:**

**BabyBeaver  
>Chrissie DeKourson (*consultant; she also invented a "Ronom Face" – OnO) x2<br>ChaosUmbrella x2  
>tributegirl x2<strong>

**You guys rock! ;D And since I replaced the Ant Hill chapter, you probably won't be able to review this one unless you do it anonymously. Just letting you know! ;D **

**-QOTB-**


	14. Fiddlesticks

**QUEENOFTHEBUTTERFLIES  
><strong>GALACTIC GAMES  
><em>FIDDLESTICKS<em>

* * *

><p><em>*- Quill Harem -*<em>

"Why you son of a –"

"Now, now, Giella," I cue, tucking my finger under her chin. She pulls her face away in shame, as I knew she would. "You wouldn't want _this_," I say, pulling a special disk out of jacket pocket. "Leaking out, would you?" She tries to shove away from me, but I won't take any of it. "You're going to behave. And that means playing by _my_ rules. Understand?"

Hesitantly, she nods. "Good girl. Now… for your _first_ task…" I walk towards her desk, allowing a bit of anticipation to cloud the air before I speak again, "rehire Optum."

"_What?_ You can't honestly expect me to do that! He-he made mockery of the Games. Of me. Of _you_. He _failed_ us all!"

"You have to fail_ many_ times to succeed, my dear," I respond, turning back to her. Oh, how I love the look on her face when she's agitated. She scowls, but I know I'll get my way. I always do. It's how I've made it this far.

"Fine," she spits. I pull my handkerchief out of my pocket and wipe my face. "But next year's tributes are obviously going to see the performance. And they'll make a fool of him again. He's no good."

"I didn't ask for your opinion on him. I just _told_ you to rehire him." With that, I walk out. I need to check on the tributes. I need to see how my Nessie is doing. It took long enough to make it to Madam President's house, and even longer to make it through the security system. Why is there such strong protection for such a weak woman?

But at least this time, I'm able to transport out. One of her guards rudely grabs me by the shoulder, and I have to push him off. I don't want his filthy fingers to smudge my suit.

He simply shrugs it off, as if it's happened before. I can feel my malice towards him rising; you don't just _shrug_ off Quill Harem. No – you're _afraid_ of Quill Harem. Quill Harem shrugs _you_ off.

Quill Harem gets what he wants.

Oh, lucky me – I'm Quill Harem.

_*- Ronom Tunre -*_

Ronom does not like walking on ropes. Ropes are small, and Ronom's feet are big. Leader Avi told Ronom to grab the rope with his hands and feet and crawl upside-down. Ronom does not like crawling upside-down, either. Ronom's back got wet because it touched the water when Ronom crawled. Leader Avi said Ronom was doing a good job. That made Ronom happy.

Ronom had to carry bags, too. Ronom did not want to crawl on the rope again, so Ronom carried all the bags at one time. The bags were heavy.

When Ronom made it to the other side, Ronom gave Leader Avi her clothes tried to pull the rope back to the side Ronom was on. The rope did not want to let go. Ronom had to pull very hard.

The rope was finally nice to Ronom and came off. Then Ronom tied the rope in a very pretty circle and put it in the bag. After Ronom did that, Leader Avi said it was time to keep moving. Ronom agreed. Ronom wanted water, but Ronom's water was not clean yet. That made Ronom sad. But when Ronom saw a tree, Ronom got very happy. Ronom pointed at the tree so Leader Avi could see it.

The tree was small, and it was by itself. Ronom wanted to hug the tree to make it feel happy. Ronom wanted the tree to have friends.

Leader Avi said that more trees were probably somewhere nearby.

Ronom likes trees.

_*- Beltross Coven -*_

Alright, now that _that's_ over with…

God, it was hard getting out of that. What were the Gamemakers thinking with this transporter business, anyways? You go out to find some berries, and BAMMO – the next thing you know, you're stuck in a net. It took me _hours_ to get out of that! Maybe another tribute planted it in hopes of a Ross Sandwich. Well, unfortunately for them, I don't make a very tasty meal.

And, of course, there's Avi… She's totally going to think that I've dissed her. _Great – that's just great, Ross. Had to get yourself sucked down a transporter, didn't you? And now you're stuck in the middle of some Godforsaken forest with no food, no water, and no friends. _

Ok, well, maybe I have a _little_ bit of food. But just barely enough to last me through today. And I _need_ some water. Or a cow. Milk goes better with everything, anyways.

Idea! Someone must have set this trap. And _that_ means that they're going to come back to look at it… And if they set _this_ trap, they're going to have _other_ traps, and _that_ means food! And maybe some water. Who knows? Yes! I'm brilliant. Now… all I have to do is wait…

_*- Twilgi Osa -*_

Sugar, sugar, fudge, fiddlesticks, sugar.

My trap is broken.

Maybe you didn't hear me right – my _trap_ is _broken_. This _sucks_. With a capitol S-U-C-K-S. Sucks. I'm hungry. Like, _really_ hungry. My tummy is making the rumblies here, and my only trap has been broken. So now I have a question – who the hello broke it? I set it above this transporter for a _reason_. Actually, I haven't made a habit out of eating people… yet. But you never know – they could be useful.

I was hoping to catch something good, like a Career. Easy enough to kill. I mean, you wouldn't feel guilty about it, right?

Right.

So… we're back to this whole _sucking_ thing. And now that I know somebody's out there, I'm going to be looking behind my back at every turn, terrified out of my mind.

Fiddlesticks.

_*- Massika Krabbitin -*_

"Alright. She's fine. She and Ronom are heading for the forest. Big whoop."

"Well, you were pretty worried for a while, Massi."

"How many times have I told you to _stop_ calling me that?" I snap, pushing my chair in the direction of the _other_ monitor. We've been paying too much attention to Avoria. Even though she obviously stands the better chance of the two, we can't neglect Beltross. Not like my mentor neglected me. He died of old age a year ago, but I didn't cry. At all. He kept telling me that I was a worthless girl; that Planet 3's only hope for victory came from Zeno, my 'partner'. Well, Zeno _died._ By _my _hand.

Jobain was nice enough, but he was weak. At least Cosso was strong, albeit old.

Selfish bastard.

"What's Ross been up to?" Jobain asks, changing his interest. I suppose he doesn't want to get into another debate about why I don't like being called Massi. Good.

"See for yourself." It comes out more pleasant than I mean for it to, but a shrug and a glare clear up any miscommunication.

"He's just… waiting."

"Yeah, well, so is the girl from 9."

"What do you think will happen?"

"How should I know?" I respond, raising my eyebrows. "_Anything_ is a possibility."

_*- Kipei Matlh –*_

"We need to get moving."

"And where, Ms. Brainiac, are we supposed to go?"

"I don't _know_, Mr. I Wanna Be Leader. Why don't _you_ tell me? All I know is that I'm _tired_ of _waiting around!_" I stomp my feet for affect, but Anson just sneers. I pounce at him, my claws raised and my teeth ready to chomp, but he just sweeps his hand out and knocks me down in one blow. Again. It would hurt if I could still feel pain in my stomach.

I just tumble backwards, rolling until I can land gracefully on my feet. I've probably scuffed up my fur – damn it's whiteness. At least I'll be able to clean myself off later.

"And I'm tired of _you_. So get a grip and shut up."

I feel my claws sinking into my palms. Who the hell made him boss, anyways? Why not Xion, or Ashaba, or even me? But no. It just _had_ to be Anson. God, I will tear my furry hands into his face and just –

"She's right, Anson," Lipra says, piping up from her perched position on the lip of the Cornucopia. She's no doubt whittling away at some useless object or another. "We need to get moving. We're Careers. We kill tributes. We can't do that if there aren't any tributes around for us to kill."

"Hey!" he yells, swinging the halberd in her direction. "_I_ say how long we stay, and _I_ say when we leave. Understood?"

"I was just saying –"

"Is that _understood_?"

"Perfectly."

"Good. Start packing up. We need to find some water, anyways."

I hope he dies in his sleep. And I hope that _I'm_ the one who gets to kill him.

_I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I_

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Psh! Yeah! ;D Marching band camp is OVER(: It was a WEEK of getting up at six, starting camp at eight, and ending at eight. -_- Gracious, did my feet HURT. xD I mean, people were passing out from lack out water, and everyone was sweating like pigs! But we SOUNDED really awesome! And when we got to doing out drills, we did pretty well, too… Although since we're playing The Simpsons, and I'm a sax player, I'm in the front for most of the first drill, so I really can't see anyone else, but… :D So I'm BACK. But the chapters are STILL going to be extended, because NOW I have to work on my Dragon*Con costume! UGH. xD My dad and I are making homemade steampunk guns! Our entire family (me, Mom, Dad, sister, nephew, sister, brother-in-law, niece! ^-^) is going steampunk! Woo! It's going to be awesome – I'm LOVING making this gun! I spent all day dissecting heart drives so that we could find pieces to use on it! **

**Oh, and guess what? MY ANT BITES ARE GONE! *hearts* But I have a bunch of blisters on the back of my neck from sweat combined with my neck strap for my sax, so... -_- I feel ugly. xD **

**Also, I hope you like the characters! ;D You got some new ones introduced. I like playing around with the multiple story lines. I mean, you've got Avi and Ronom's (sometimes continued by Massika and Jobain), and you've got Quill's (I really dislike him… xD), and now you've getting into Ross and Twilgi (obviously, they're going to meet… xD), and now Kipei! Yay! :D Anyone in particular you'd like to hear from? Laurali? Rilla (Ross's mom)? Another tribute? Anyways? :D Opinions? (BTW – my little dog is snoring right now, and it is SOOOOOO cute! ^-^)**

**THANK YOU TO/CHECK OUT THE STORIES OF THESE PEOPLE:**

**BabyBeaver  
>Chrissie DeKourson (*consultant! OnO)<br>ChaosUmbrella  
>tributegirl<br>Bumblebee27  
>Twirlgirl821<strong>

**You guys are THE greatest! *hearts***

**LASTLY! I've been developing the SYOT idea. It's kind of complicated and weird, but I'm trying to make it as user-friendly as possible! If you guys have any ideas, I'd love to hear 'em! Or if there's anything you wanna see… ;D And when would you guys like to see it up?**

**-QOTB-**


	15. Are You Scared?

**QUEENOFTHEBUTTERFLIES**  
><span>GALACTIC GAMES<span>  
><em>ARE YOU SCARED?<em>

* * *

><p><em>*- Avoria Maydel -*<em>

It was so hot before… how can it be so cold now? Bipolar temperature or something?

Ronom and I are sitting high up in a tree, and every time I look down I think I'm going to puke. Funny, isn't it? I didn't feel this way on the big tree. But then again, when you can't see the ground, you don't really worry about hitting it, do you? Although I guess none of it really matters anymore. Earlier, after I had gotten out of the water, Ronom asked me what the colorful thing on my stomach was. When I looked down, I saw something that I hoped I'd never see again.

_Bruises._

I told him that they were nothing. _Nothing_. But they're certainly not _nothing_. No – they're _everything_. They're the difference between life and death! So of course, I couldn't help but wonder where I got them. And then it hit me – and I _didn't_ intend for that to be a bad pun.

When I jumped out of the tree, my stomach came into contact with Ronom's _armed_ shoulder. It was enough to knock me unconscious, so wouldn't it also have been enough to bruise me?

And I hadn't even noticed. When I had taken my clothes off to swim, I hadn't noticed. I hadn't noticed when I was in the water, either. How did I _not_?

Then again, I _was_ a little preoccupied in the water… What with that shark and all. I still shiver when I think about it. What would have happened if I hadn't listened to Massika? Would I be dead? Probably. I guess it's a good thing, then, that she's so bossy. I didn't have time to think about anything other than shutting her up. I didn't have time to think about the vicious Elf-eating shark that was swimming circles around me.

So I guess I'm one of the lucky ones, then. I'm going to die in about a week, but I didn't get eaten by a shark. So it's all good, right?

_*- Lipra Mir -*_

I hate Anson. I honestly do.

I can handle being told what to do. In fact, from years of, _"Ipi, you're not doing it right! Let me show you how,_" from my older sister Mori, I've become an expert at doing what people tell me to. Always being the follower, never the lead. Never being able to freely do as I wish because it isn't an appropriate thing for the daughter of Planet 2's Representative to be doing.

I can handle backing down. I'm used to it. For the most part, my opinions stay in my head, "_where a lady's opinions belong_." I bite my tongue and sit idly, waiting until it's my turn to speak; waiting to say something that I don't really believe.

I can handle the way he treats Kipei, who's more or less made my acquaintance. It's very familiar to the relationship between my head butler, Kirts, and my favorite maid, Yiska. Kirts is rude, annoying, and obnoxious. If the maid girls don't perform to his standards, they're whipped. It apparently means that he takes his job very seriously, but I don't see it that way. I see it as a bunch of poor girls who are trying their hardest so that I don't have to try at all. So maybe a slip a little money under my pillow, where Yiska – my own personal maid – puts the pillow mints. So maybe I insist that I didn't want my doorknob _too_ shiny because it hurts my eyes. So maybe I trained and volunteered behind Father's back; so _maybe_ I specifically requested that my room be left to Yiska and that she's not to be bothered. And _maybe _if you change the story a little, it's similar to my trying to help Kipei by backing her up. So _what?_

But the thing about Anson that I abhor the most of all his demonic traits?

His _absolute refusal_ to say _anything_ nice.

_*- Jobain Mivik -*_

"This isn't good. Oh, _God_, this isn't good…"

"Don't you think I know that?" Massika snaps, whipping her head towards me. "You don't have to keep saying it."

"It calms me down," I murmur, sitting back in my chair.

"It _annoys_ me."

"You know what, Massika? I _really_ don't care anymore," I mutter, looking back at the screen. Avi is sitting up, staring at the sky. She's probably waiting to see if anyone's died today. "This was the first time we stood a chance since you were a tribute."

"That wasn't very long ago," she points out sourly. "Five years."

"Five years means ten tributes, Massika. Five years means ten dead kids."

_*- Twilgi Osa -*_

"Alright!" I call, standing up from my bush. I've been crouching behind this godforsaken shrub for at least half an hour, and I'm just flat out uncomfortable. "I don't know who you are, but I'm sick of this game. If you're going to kill me, then kill me. If not… well then, hi. I'm Twilgi of Planet 9. Nice to meet you."

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Can you believe it? Wussy.

"Seriously. Come on. I know you're here." I walk over to the broken trap, but I don't step on the transporter. That would be rather stupid of me. "I'm not going to kill you. Unless you try to kill me first. Then I claim self-defense."

Somebody tries to hide their laughter. Interesting.

I crouch down, preparing to pounce. It would be deathly silent except for the soft noises coming from my left… the suspicious laughter noises.

Then, like a spring, I jump up – high. I feel totally weightless, like I always do. Then I turn to my left and position my body for a proper landing – a landing that lands me right behind an Elf boy who decides to scream at my sudden arrival.

"Hello there!" I say with a smile. "Are you planning to kill me?"

"Um…no…?"

"Good. Hi, I'm Twilgi," I say, offering my hand to help him up.

"I'm… Ross…" He seems hesitant. Poor little shy boy.

"Hey, Ross. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too…?"

"You seem a little scared. Are you scared Ross?"

"Yeah-"

Just then, cannon fire goes off.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Mwahaha. Who's dead? :D Ehh, you probably don't know… xD Seriously. I wouldn't even try to guess if I was you. xD And it was shorter, I know, but at least it was something... right? **

**Alright, so… school starts in a week. :/ Which means that I'll have lots of work. PLUS, I'll have band rehearsals on Tuesdays and Thursdays. You all know that my writing will now have more space between chapters. And because I've been procrastinating for, like, two months now, and I have ONE week to get all of these assignments done… *sigh…***

**Teehee… I love Twilgi(: *hearts***

**ON THE BRIGHT SIDE(: I put up my SYOT if you wanna check that out! Thanks to my supportive ones(:**

**THANK YOU TO/CHECK OUT THE STORIES OF THESE PEOPLE:**

**tributegirl  
>Twirlgirl821<br>loudgirlx  
>Chrissie DeKourson (*consultant! OnO)<strong>

**You guys are awesome(: **

**-QOTB-**


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